


Recalibrate

by Scorch_The_Earth



Category: Lego Ninjago
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventurey things, Angst, Angsty Depression Shloop, Character death but not major enough to be a warning, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Fluff and Angst, GAYYYYYNESSSS, GLACIER, God Glacier ship just kiss already, Gotta love Morro, Humor, I need to stop tagging, M/M, Minor Character Death(s?), No worries, Not just a romance, So many of the humors, There's less angst then the tags make it seem I promise, Yas Morro Yas, and a little more angst, but it's still a romance, kind of, there are kisses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2018-08-29 18:56:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 67,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8501464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scorch_The_Earth/pseuds/Scorch_The_Earth
Summary: After the Overlord is defeated, it seems as though everything is perfect. But when a devastating event hits Zane Julien, his world collapses and becomes nothing but sadness. It seems as though he may not recover. With the help of a friend, however, life slowly seems to awaken, along with feelings Zane has never experienced before... Not just a romance, includes loads of adventure!!! But yeah, obviously gay characters. Don't like, don't read please.





	1. Prolouge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know that this fanfiction is a little bit behind the times, seeing how it's taking place after the overlord's first defeat. However, this was the only place I could find that would work with the story line. It kind of trails off on it's own plot. It works the gap between the overlord's defeat and the techno age. When I started writing the plot though, I just couldn't put it into it's place, and match it back to the techno season. So, I kind of took our favorite characters for a new, different story! I hope you all enjoy! (basically, all of the techno, Chen, and Morro stuff don't exist, according to this fanfiction. It may be awkward and uncomfortable, but please bear with me)!

The city was in complete ruins. Shards of glass and concrete chunks of buildings littered the streets. Neon signs were smashed inwards, flickering in depleted energy. It had never been so silent, so empty; It felt like a ghost town. A place of where a tornado had just came rummaging through, trashing the streets in it's rage. It seemed as though there were no people left from whatever had happened to the city. However, inside the apartments and houses of Ninjago city, and even all over the world, there was a large amount of people. Parties were being held late into the night, consisting of dancing and singing and smiles and laughing; all in gratitude for a specific group of five young men. The same people who had happened to save the world only hours prior.

As it had it, those men were the only ones that were not celebrating. Instead, they were sleeping in a deeper sleep than they had had in a long time. Dreams of their futures danced around in their sleep state, and the world that was filled with peace possessed no threat to the men. They could finally, for what felt like the first time in their lives, sleep without a care in the world.

Evil, of course, never rested. A balance between the good and evil was always restored, and so it would be soon enough. For now, however, the men could peacefully sleep, with their dreams of their future and their hopes about them.

For now, they could finally rest


	2. A New Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the defeat of the Overlord

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expostion! Exposition! *Bangs fists on table*.  
> I freaking love writing about Zane. He is such a cute little clueless puppy.

He woke up that morning, in an actual bed, staring up at a ceiling. He knew he was the only one awake, given how it was six o'clock in the morning. Or at least, that's what his internal clock said. His internal clock was never wrong. Blinking a couple of times, he thought about the day before, recounting the events.

The day had definitely been an eventful one. The defeat of the Overlord had been quite a task, that had caused many lives to be lost; almost lives of loved ones. It had all worked out in the end, though. Everyone was smiling, people were happy, and peace was restored to the ever troubled city of Ninjago.

Zane felt certain this wasn't going to last. This calm was sure to end at some point, and he doubted that he, or any of his friends, would be getting much rest out of this victory. He shook his head. He shouldn't be doubting the peace. He wasn't programmed to doubt in a time of happiness.

He shrugged silently to himself, brushing off his unsettling feelings, and threw the covers off his body, exposing him to the warm temperature of the room. He sat up in his bed, and looked across the room, high on-top of the bunk he shared with Jay. Cole and Kai slept on the other bunk across the way, still fully dressed in their uniforms and sprawled on their backs, as if they had fallen asleep as soon as their bodies hit the mattress. Underneath Zane slept Jay, who was wearing blue flannel pajamas, and cuddling his favorite teddy bear under the covers. Jay had always hid his bear from view, and probably still believed that no one knew it existed. Even after having lived with them for so many years, he thought it was a well-kept secret. No one had the heart to make fun of Jay and his teddy bear, and so as far as he was concerned, his bear was his secret to keep.

In the corner of the room lay a temporary air mattress, on which a boy with blonde hair slept. He wore nothing but a green pair of pajama bottoms. It had seemed as though Lloyd had fallen asleep before he could finish putting his pajamas on. They all seemed to be in deep sleep, and wouldn't be waking up any time soon.

Zane began to descend down the bunk bed ladder, his naked feet hitting each ladder rung with a soft thud, that was sure to awaken no one. After all, he was a ninja, and his level of stealth was superior to most normal humans. He grabbed a change of clothes from his dresser, and then proceeded to lock himself inside the bathroom, for privacy.

He took off the white t-shirt he had been wearing, and dropped it on the floor, the shirt landing in a pile with his black pajama bottoms. He now stood in front of the mirror that was above the sink, dressed in nothing but his grey boxers, assessing the damage that he had accumulated from the battle. He ran his fingers along his arms, and met several minor dents in his skin. His metal was only dented; nothing his father couldn't fix in a couple of minutes.

His external damage was minor. Only a few dents, nothing too major. Nothing harmful. He continued on, now having to inspect the internal part of him.

The part of him, of which he didn't always want to exist.

Zane ran his fingers along his side until he found the catch he was looking for. He sighed as his fingers found the little gap, in disappointment. He once had had a dream where he couldn't find the latch, and it was one of his favorite dreams he had ever had. He had always hoped he would never find the catch. As if some magical thing happened over night, that made it so he was human. Although he loved his father dearly, and appreciated the many positives of being an artificial human, he still wished to be human. To have a human brain and heart, to not have to question whether you were "alive" or not. To be real.

Zane dismissed his feelings once again, like he always did when he began to feel this way. It almost felt like a betrayal to his father, to think such ways. He dug his fingernails into the catch, opening it when he got a good grip on it. Inside was an assortment of wires, buttons, switches, and cables, all of which helped him function and move the way he did. He inspected the connections with the mirror in front of him, checking the wires and such. Everything was where they should be, and so he closed the compartment, locking it back into place with a tiny "click".

He threw on his clothes for the day ahead of him and his friends. Just a simple, light grey sweatshirt, a white t-shirt, and a pair of comfortable jeans. Something he would be able to move around in if he needed to.

The day ahead of him and his friends was going to be full of work for them to do. They would be helping a man named Cyrus Borg rebuild the city, after the fight with the Overlord. Cyrus's claim was that he had the power and ideas to create a technological revolution that would keep the citizens of Ninjago safer and healthier. His ideas were becoming very popular with the citizens of Ninjago City. However, Zane and his friends were weary of Mr. Borg. Anyone claiming to be that good always had something hiding up their sleeve.

Zane unlocked the bathroom door, turning off the bathroom light so as to not wake up the others as he did so. He carried his pajamas with him, and stuffed them in the hamper, which was already full with the young men's clothes. Zane then proceeded out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind him as quietly as he could. For a temporary, somewhat old monastery that they were using at the moment to live in, it wasn't as creaky and loud as it could be.

He began to make a bee-line for the deep pond outside the monastery, hoping to get some silent meditation time in before the others woke up. He was just about to open the outside doors, when he heard voices coming from the mess room (the dining room). Normally, Zane was the first one of anyone to be up and around at such a time, so hearing voices came as a surprise to him. Instead of going to the pond, his curiosity lead him to the mess hall, where he stood outside the sliding doors, listening in on the conversation occurring inside. Zane didn't usually eavesdrop on people, seeing it as immoral and rude. It wasn't necessarily eavesdropping though. It was more of an accidental hearing of voices.

As he heard each person speak, his gears whirred, recognizing the voices with his state-of-the-art recognition software. He couldn't see who was talking, of course. He didn't have x-ray vision, or anything crazy like that.

"-Would this new advancement do to the culture and people of Ninjago? More importantly, what doors would be opened that could jeopardize the people?" Misako asked. Misako was a wise woman, and also Lloyd's mother. Zane had a decent amount of respect for her.

"Don't worry. If anything happens, I could take them out with my awesome stone army." Dareth said, with a bravado that was most like him. Zane mentally rolled his eyes.

"Thank you, Dareth, but I don't think that would be really necessary-" Cyrus Borg began, before someone cut him off.

"I think," Sensei Wu said, "what Misako meant was, what new enemies could sprout from the advanced technology?"

"Evil robots?" Doctor Julien asked excitedly, sounding like he would enjoy battling robots. Zane smiled a little to himself, for this was his father, a man he loved very much.

"I highly doubt there will be any-" Cyrus began, nervously laughing, before he was interrupted once more.

"Sorry to disrupt your sentence, Mr. Borg, but I believe we have an eavesdropper among us." A man said. Zane's recognition software halted in it's tracks, confused as to who this was. It sounded much like an enemy of Zane's: Lord Garmadon. The dark echo, however, had disappeared from the voice of the previous dark lord.

The doors flew open with a large gust of wind, and there sat six people on their knees at the table, looking at the now-exposed Zane, who was standing in the doorway. One of the men sat in a wheelchair at the table. He seemed to have a crippled leg, naturally having been crippled since birth, from Zane's calculations. This was most likely Cyrus Borg.

Zane's eyes searched the people at the table until he found his father, whose glasses were a tad askew on the bridge of his nose, as always. He had a huge smile on his face at seeing Zane, sun crinkles forming under his eyes.

"Good morning, Zane. I thought you'd be awake soon." Dr. Julien said, as Zane walked over to him and received a hug. Hugs from his father always felt nice. When he was first hugged by his father, he didn't know how to feel. He knew his father loved him very much, but his mind always traveled into darker places. He used to worry he was just a project to his father, nothing more. He used to be afraid he was loved because he was a success. Zane knew better now, though.

Zane sat down next to his father, and grabbed a doughnut from the center plate full of them. He took a bite out of the powdered pastry and began to chew, when he noticed all eyes were on him. His chewing slowed to a stop, watching the unnerving eyes. Zane swallowed and spoke, not talking with his mouth full, due to the automatic manners encrypted in his software.

"What?" He asked plainly, watching Cyrus Borg curiously, who's eyes widened as Zane spoke.

"This, Mr. Borg, is my son Zane. Although he is technically a robot, his friends call him a "nindroid", due to his physical skills and robotic interior." Dr. Julien said, smiling as he talked. Cyrus's mouth fell open.

"Fascinating… What can it do?" Cyrus asked, staring at the nindroid with such an intensity that Zane couldn't look away from. He shifted uncomfortably at being called "it", and spoke up before anyone could answer.

"You could ask me yourself, Mr. Borg. I am perfectly capable of answering any of your questions. I would also like to be addressed by my name, not just something on showcase for viewing." Zane said cooly and flatly. It did not bode well with him, being called an "it".

Cyrus's mouth opened, and then closed, and then opened once again, in a loss for words at this.

"He can do everything you can do, Cyrus. Probably even a little more than you can do." Sensei Wu said, smiling slightly, making the crinkles on his face show, from smiling so much.

Cyrus composed himself, nodded, and turned back to Zane.

"Do you have any feelings?" Cyrus Borg asked, looking at him with a new curiosity that held respect for the nindroid.

"Yes." Zane replied with a simple head nod.

"Really? Can you feel love?" Cyrus asked, watching Zane's eyes focus with each tiny movement he made.

"I love my father." He said. However, Cyrus chuckled and shook his head, as if this was the wrong answer.

"No, no, no. I mean, have you ever loved someone?" Zane's eyebrows pulled down in confusion, not entirely sure what Cyrus was asking of him.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're-" Zane began, before his father interrupted.

"He wasn't programmed to have any emotions. However, it seems that he has developed his own feelings over time. Zane hasn't been exposed to the type of emotion you are talking about, but I hope he does someday. He deserves that kind of love in his life too." Dr. Julien said, sounding genuinely happy as he said this. Sensei nodded and smiled in agreement, not explaining to Zane what at all they were talking about. He sighed from the lack of information he was being given, and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

Mr. Borg tilted his head in curiosity.

"How old are you?" He asked.

"Sixteen-" Zane began to reply.

"Your real age, please."

"Seventy four." Zane replied automatically.

Cyrus Borg's eyes widened at the age, and he immediately turned to Zane's father, who was smiling nervously.

"That makes you about one hundred and eleven!" Cyrus exclaimed.

"I'll be celebrating my one hundred and twelfth birthday in two months." Dr. Julien responded, laughing nervously. Around the table, Sensei Wu and Garmadon joined in on the nervous laughter, quite aware of their old age.

"You and Dareth are the youngest ones in this room, I'm afraid." Misako said, each person laughing at this.

Once everyone settled down, Wu stood up, smiling at the people around the table.

"Well, the boys will be up soon, and I wouldn't want you to see the famous heroes in their zombie state." Sensei said, Cyrus Borg chuckling.

"It was nice to meet you all." He said, shaking everyone's hands, including Zane's (which was a little colder than everyone else's), before wheeling out of the room, with Garmadon guiding him on the way outside. Sensei and Misako left the room, heading towards the shared room of adolescent boys to wake them up. Zane turned towards his father, as they were now alone.

"Father… What if you become too old… I mean, what happens if you die? What will I do without you?" Zane asked, looking down at the hands. He couldn't live without his father for a second time. He couldn't lose his father a second time, especially after getting to know him better. It had never occurred to him that his father was mortal, and could die, never able to return again.

Dr. Julien grimaced slightly, and put his hand on his son's shoulder.

"Zane, someday, I will pass on. When that happens, I want you to stay happy for me. I don't know what will become of me after I die; People say many different things and have many different theories about that. But there's one thing for certain; I will always be in here." Dr. Julien said, pointing at Zane's chest, where a human's heart would be located.

"Where?" Zane asked, looking blankly down at his sweater where his father was jabbing him with his finger.

"In your heart." His father said, smiling, as Zane looked up at him.

"I don't have a-" Zane began.

"Yes, you do. You may not have a physical heart, true. But you have a heart." Dr. Julien said, patting Zane's shoulder and getting up. He grabbed a doughnut, and exited the room, leaving Zane to ponder this alone. His father was making no sense. He didn't have a heart, but he did? It was confusing. Zane did not have a heart, he knew this. He had seen his own blueprints. So why did his father insist that he had a heart? Nothing was making sense this morning.

He looked up from his pondering when he heard a sad groan, coming from the hallway. He watched as four, stumbling teenagers entered the room, looking much like Sensei described them; Zombies.

"Good morning friends." Zane greeted, smiling slightly. The closest thing Zane got to a response was a lazy head nod from Lloyd, who proceeded to sit down at the table and face plant into the table, as if thinking it was his pillow. The other three followed his example at their own pace, each of them face planting into the table with a loud "thump", one after the other.

Sensei and Misako followed behind the four, trying desperately to wake them up.

"Up and at 'em, Jay. Come on. Wake up. Big day of hard work and building to be done." Misako encouraged, shaking Jay's shoulders gently. He groaned, and swatted at the empty air in front of him, as if it would stop the shaking.

"Can't we just… Do it tomorrow?" Cole yawned, while rubbing his eyes, trying to wake up. He opened his eyes, looking around lazily. However, when his eyes fell on the plate of donuts, he immediately woke up. With ninja speed, he snatched a doughnut off the plate, and began nibbling on it. Zane rolled his eyes. Always the one with the sweet tooth, Cole was.

"Never put off tomorrow-" Began Sensei Wu, about to teach his pupils a lesson, when Kai interrupted.

"-What can be done today, yeah, we know. You've only said it about twenty times." Kai grumbled, yawning and running his fingers through his brown, messy hair.

"Which is why it surprises me that you have yet to learn from it." Sensei countered, raising an eyebrow. Kai opened his mouth, and then closed it, for it was not a good idea to argue with Sensei. Instead, Kai took a doughnut from the plate on the table.

Zane watched the four slowly wake up, until they were all finally sitting up straight in their spots. Cole and Jay, even though fully awake, did not look the least bit rested. They looked sickly pale, and had dark circles under their eyes. He concluded that this had been the after effects of the dark matter that they had been hit by, which turned even the purest good, evil. Zane cringed internally when he thought about what Nya would look like, after having been under the control of the dark matter for a whole two days.

As if on cue, Nya walked in, all eyes turning to her.

Nya was Kai's sister, and the only girl their age in their group of heroes. Before she had started dating Jay, Zane had always observed the boys sneaking peeks at her (even little Lloyd, when he was younger and annoying). Kai never did this for obvious reasons, and Zane never looked at her like that. It simply didn't interest him. She was a friend, and he couldn't see her as anything else than that. He couldn't look at anyone like that, now that he thought about it. He just couldn't.

"How are you feeling?" Jay asked, sounding concerned. He patted the ground next to him, inviting her to sit next to him, which she gladly did.

"Not so good," She replied, rubbing her temples, "I've got a headache, and I'm really worn out."

She looked awful. Her skin was extremely pale, almost translucent looking, and the dark purple circles under her eyes looked horrible; She looked dreadful. Jay leaned in, placed his hand on her cheeks, and kissed her lips. Nya's face went red, adding some healthy blush to her pale skin. Kai, Lloyd, and Cole made gagging noises, as if they were about to cough up a hairball. Zane rolled his eyes, seeing them as a bunch of idiots.

Jay pulled away and smiled crookedly at Nya's blushing cheeks..

"You look like a vampire." He said, making Nya laugh and kiss him on the cheek. Zane studied them with curiosity as they interacted like this, holding hands and teasing each other. He couldn't make sense of any of it, even though he had seen it thousands of times before. It seemed so alien to him. Many things that humans did seemed alien to him. Like jokes, for example.

Everyone began to talk in side conversations, when Sensei Wu looked towards the door. There in the doorway stood Garmadon, watching each teen with cautious eyes. Talking ceased, and heads turned towards him, putting him on the spot.

His eyes scanned everyone, until they rested on Nya. He took in her deathly appearance, his hand shooting up to his mouth in utter shock, knowing he had been the one to do this. She looked the way she did because of him. A child. He did this to a child, without any second thought.

"I'm… So… Sorry…" He managed through his hand, his face becoming pale and sickly. He turned to Kai, who glared at the old man. To Cole and Jay, who also had been affected by his evil actions. To even his son, who had had a broken ankle at one point. His own son. He hurt his own son.

Zane watched as tears began to streak down Garmadon's face. Misako began to move towards him, possibly to comfort him, but Garmadon left his place in the doorway hastily, as if to get away from any affection he received. He dashed down the hall, and out of sight.

"Dad!" Lloyd shouted after him, leaping up and running after his father, Misako following behind him. The room was quiet for an uncomfortable amount of time, before Sensei Wu spoke.

"My brother is going through some... Difficult times at the moment. He'll be leaving tomorrow morning for a secluded, far away monastery with Misako. Hopefully he will be able to heal himself there," Sensei explained. The ninja looked quietly down at their laps. They wanted to feel sorry for Sensei's older brother, they really did. However, they had been enemies for too long in order to feel any sympathy yet, "On a different note, we'll be leaving soon for the construction site. I suggest you get something on besides your pajamas."

The other ninja nodded, and left the room, leaving Zane by himself once more. He sighed, and picked up one last doughnut, believing this morning to be one of the most emotional and confusing mornings he had ever had in his life. It surely couldn't get any worse than this.

If only he had known how wrong he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUNNNNN! Please don't forget to comment, I live off of feedback!


	3. Power Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zane and the gang head out to help Borg, without knowing that the author is planning a horrible plot twist to make all their lives horrible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, THIS is where things start to get a little intense. This is where it all begins! I would consider bowing out now if you don't want to be invested in this story :p

The drive to Ninjago City was quite a long one. There was large amounts of traffic due to rush hour, and the citizens returning back to the city, the city now being safe to live in once more. Nya, being a patient driver, took it in stride. She loved driving the bus, and Zane could tell she didn't really mind not moving. She just loved being behind the wheel.

Zane turned to the window, looking out at the traffic below them. The bus was, of course, a bus, and so he did somewhat tower above the other cars.

Immediately below him was a sudden movement, and he quickly looked down at the car below. There was a small boy, his face and hands pressed up against the window of the car, looking straight up at Zane. Zane smiled at the small, red headed boy. In return, he got a huge grin from the boy, showing off a smile with a couple of teeth missing, making way for the adult ones to grow.

Zane opened the window a crack, and the kid looked at him in anticipation, wondering what he was doing. Concentrating on his elemental core inside him, he brought the power of ice out of him as he blew a gust of air out of his mouth and out the window. His breath gave the illusion it was the middle of winter, being able to see the moisture from his exhale hanging in the air. However, this was summer, which was why the boy stared at it in amazement. The impossible happening did not float away, and instead became grayer and darker, becoming a mini cloud. The child's eyes twinkled in delight as the cloud floated down to the boy, and started to release tiny, beautiful snowflakes for the child's enjoyment. The redhead's attention was no longer with Zane, and instead was on the cloud, which had now created a snowman that was dancing for the boy, making him laugh with joy. Zane smiled slightly to himself, and closed the window, content with himself for being able to make another person happy.

In front of him sat Cole, who's eyes were transfixed outside the window, staring down at the cloud with amazement as well.

"That's pretty cool, tin can," Cole said, grinning, looking away from the window and at Zane. He sheepishly smiled at Cole, not knowing what to say to the compliment, and looked down at his lap. Cole most likely didn't actually think it was cool. He was probably messing with Zane. After all, Cole was the master of Earth, and could probably do a lot more cooler things than him.

"Hey, Zane," Someone said. Zane looked up from his lap, and looked across the way at Kai, who had called him, "Don't you think it's kind of odd, where Borg is planning to build his empire?"

"You can't help but get the willies, thinking this big, supposed 'future' will be built right on top of the place the Overlord's own fortress was on," Jay added, shivering a little at the concept of it all.

Zane agreed with the both of them. It did seem a little unsettling, going back to the site of the Overlord's destruction. Going to place like that to build a promising future on top of it, as well.

"I mean," Zane said, glancing over at Cole, who was looking out the window once more, "I do think that it is somewhat of a... Curious move on Mr. Borg's part. It is just an act of harmless symbolism though, right? The Overlord was defeated, we saw Lloyd do it. It shouldn't matter what we build on the remains of what the Overlord created."

Kai shrugged and sat back in his seat, nodding a little in agreement. However, this answer was not enough for Jay, who leaned in close, as if he was about to share an important secret with the three of them. Even Cole payed attention to what Jay had to say.

"Lloyd couldn't have missed, could he?" Jay whispered, not wanting Lloyd to hear, "The Overlord died, we saw it… Right?"

It was silent on the bus for a couple of moments. Zane glanced behind him, where a couple seats back, Lloyd slept, taking a quick nap. His mouth hung open in a snore, his blonde head resting up against the window. Zane turned back around.

"There's no way the Overlord is still alive after that… Let's just forget about it for now. If we find evidence that says otherwise while we're at the construction site, we'll talk about it with Sensei," Cole said, putting everyone's minds at ease for the moment. The traffic was starting to pick up, moving along faster. The car that held the red-haired boy sped on, the cloud with snow chasing after it, and Zane was left to stare out the window once more.

The conversations from the morning caught up to him again, as he stared at nothing. Was he alive? Why was he told he had a heart? What was there more to learn about love? Everything was so confusing to him. Everything was so confusing to him. It was hard to live in a human world.

Someone suddenly slid into his seat, hips colliding into his as the person flew into his. Zane jumped in surprise, and whipped around, to find it was just Cole.

"Oh. Hello Cole," Zane said, calming down and slightly smiling, before turning back to the window. He knew their leader was about to talk to him. Cole had that questioning look in his eyes.

Cole could tell something was wrong with Zane. Something was bothering him. The way his eyes wouldn't focus at the tiniest movements as they usually would. He wasn't spectating his friends as he usually did. He wasn't observing. Something was wrong.

"What's bothering you?" Cole asked, talking to the back of Zane's head. Zane shook his head a little against the window. He only ever dismissed his feelings when it was really, really deep stuff. Something that had he had been programmed with. His body immediately tried to rid him of bad feelings. If he couldn't forget them, that meant something was wrong.

"It's something Zane. Don't shake your head. What's wrong?" Cole insisted. It was, after all, his job to take care of his team. He had to admit, Zane didn't get as much care as he gave to the others, and he always felt bad for that. Just because Zane was a cyborg didn't mean he could handle all of struggles that came with having feelings.

"It is nothing Cole. Do not be worried about me. I shall be fine," Zane replied, giving Cole a small reassuring smile, ignoring the disbelieving grimace on the leader's face.

Cole was opening his mouth, getting ready to protest Zane, when Nya came on over the bus intercom, interrupting him.

"Hey guys, we're entering Ninjago city now. We'll be at the construction site in about five minutes," Nya informed them. They were all covering their ears, seeing as how the intercom was unnecessary. It sounded so loud in the bus, for only about five people to notify.

"THANKS NYA," Kai shouted back, scowling, his ears covered by his hands. She stuck her tongue out at him through the rear-view mirror, before putting the intercom radio back in it's place. They all uncovered their ears. Zane looked back at Lloyd, who was wide awake, thanks to the alarming voice coming from the voice in the ceiling of the bus.

"Well," Cole whispered to Zane, before leaving and returning back to his seat, "I'm here if you need someone to talk to. I am your leader."

Zane gave a simple, courteous nod towards Cole. These wonders he was having weren't something that Cole could help with. Or anyone could help with, for that matter. This was all Zane's problem.

Within a few minutes, they were parked outside the construction site, ready to start off the day with some hard labor. Each of them walked out of the bus and onto the sidewalk, heading towards the entrance to meet with Cyrus Borg.

It was a nice, crisp summer morning. Not too hot to be unbearable while doing work. As they were being guided by Mr. Borg around the premises, they watched the other workers work. Already, they had put some metal bars down, having been hard at work for a couple of hours by now.

"And this," Mr. Borg said, showing the group the blueprint for the base of the building that was being constructed, "Is what we'll be working on today."

Jay coughed, his eyes bulging slightly at the prospect of what the man had just said.

"The whole base?" He asked, sounding shocked, "Not to brag, but I know a lot about the basics of inventing and engineering, Mr. Borg. The base is the most important part of the invention, or in this case, a building; It's the one part you want to get perfect, in order for everything else to work. This base here looks like it should be made at least over two days! You can't possibly expect us and the construction crew to finish this before lunch."

Cyrus smiled somewhat mischievously, adjusted his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, and clapped Jay on the back.

"Yes, but you are ninja. You can do anything," Cyrus said, wheeling away from the group and towards the construction, which was teeming with workers, "Alright everyone, the ninja are here! Time to start working! We can do this!"

The men and women cheered for the extra sets of hands, and went back to their work with a new energy. Lloyd sighed, and picked a hammer up off the ground.

"I feel like he's testing us or something. This isn't fair. Why are we always being tested by people? Why can't we test them instead for a change?" Jay said, slouching a little as he looked at the amount of work ahead of them.

"The longer we whine, the less time we have to get it done," muttered Lloyd, turning the hammer around in his hand, grimacing at the tool that wasn't used very much in the ninja work, "I guess we should start getting to work."

However, Kai had a crazy grin on his face, as if he knew something that the others did not.

"Borg never said anything about not using our powers, did he?" Kai pointed out, a sly smile spreading across Jay's face as Kai said this. The others grinned along with him, looking more excited than sad now.

"I like the way you think," Cole said, grinning as he did so, and head off to the entrance of the work zone, sealed off by a metal chain link gate. Zane followed him with the others, who were now full of excited energy. Nya grabbed a yellow hard hat from the stack next to the gate, placing it on her head, and then handed out the others to the boys.

Muttering thank you's, the ninja entered through the gates, and headed off to the stations they had delegated to each other.

Zane began to walk towards the pile of long, metal beams, passing by several workers as he did so. Some of them acknowledged them he was there, others did not, too busy to notice him. He wasn't bothered by this, though. Zane wasn't usually one for attention from other people.

Once he arrived at the pile, he began to hand out the long, metal beams to the other construction workers, helping them get it on their shoulders and such. At times, when there was no one for him to help, he would watch his friends work hard, using their elemental powers to work hard at their jobs. Jay and Nya worked as a team, working nuts and bolts in the fastest manner he had ever seen them done. Kai, with his helpful fire powers, was like a human welder, melding the metal beams together, in the areas of which no worker could easily get to. Lloyd seemed to be all over the place, helping any person he could find. And Cole…

Zane looked around, and became alarmed, as he couldn't find Cole. Suddenly, something touched his shoulder, and he jumped in surprise.

Cole broke out in a hearty, loud laugh at Zane's reaction. His emerald eyes twinkled in delight. Cole was wearing a cut sleeve shirt, with major holes on the sides. It was, of course, black, as most things were that he wore. It showed off his dark skin and decent muscles quite well, which made girls swoon as he passed by. Zane found the wardrobe decision to be a little on the "stupid side". Cole was leaving himself open for cuts from the construction work, by wearing such a revealing shirt. It was a little careless to wear something like that to a relatively dangerous place.

"Don't do that! You know much I hate being surprised!" Zane scolded, furrowing his brow at Cole. Cole stopped laughing after a couple of more moments, trying to compose himself so as to not offend his brother.

"I'm sorry Zane, you're right. I shouldn't do that," Cole chuckled.

"I can most definitely tell you are being completely insincere," Zane said flatly. Cole shrugged and smirked.

"You're most definitely right, tin can," Cole said, smiling. Zane rolled his eyes, but couldn't help from smiling as well, "Anyways, can you help me with a couple of beams? I gotta take it over there."

Cole pointed to the area of the base that was almost finished.

Zane nodded, and grabbed the first beam, hefting it up with brute force. He handed it off to Cole, who took it from Zane as if it were as light as a feather. Cole could easily carry the weight of the beam.

"You don't even need my help," Zane pointed out. Cole was the master of earth, and therefore the strongest on the team. He didn't need Zane's help one bit.

"Yes I do," Cole said, brushing aside Zane's comment as he shouldered the beam that Zane had given him, "Now help me get the next one."

He rolled his eyes and did what Cole asked, handing him the next metal beam. However, in the act of doing so, the ice cold fingers of Zane's hand accidentally brushed Cole's arm. Cole's cheeks darkened heavily against his already dark skin at the ice cold fingers, while jumping in surprise, giving a little squeak.

"God Zane, your fingers are like ice!" Cole exclaimed, as he fumbled with the beams in his surprise. The beams fell to the ground in a loud clatter. He scrambled to the ground frantically, his ears a dark crimson.

"I am sorry," Zane apologized, slightly confused by Cole's reaction. There had been plenty of times in battle of where they had had physical contact, and Cole had never reacted as such as he had just done. He always had know Zane was cold by nature, and so it shouldn't have been a surprise to him. No matter, Zane felt he had to apologize.

"It's not your fault, tin can. I've just been off recently. Must be a head cold," Cole muttered, successfully picking the beams off the ground, shouldering them once more. Zane frowned, not wanting his brother to be in pain. He was about to ask Cole what his symptoms were, when someone else called out to him, Cole stalking away as Zane's attention was distracted.

"Zane! We need your help freezing this beam! I made it too hot and now it's melting!" Kai yelled, on top of the metal structure, watching in worry as the thing slowly began to deform in front of his eyes.

"Coming!" Zane replied, as he ran over to help his friend, Cole's affliction forgotten. 

  


"Lloyd," Kai said, pausing as he took a sip of his Dr. Pepper from Chen's Burrito House, "I gotta hand it to you. Your dad may have sucked as an evil dark lord, but he sure knows how to pick carry-out from a good restaurant," Everyone chuckled at this, nodding their heads as they ate their burritos on a wooden picnic table.

"Thanks… I think?" Lloyd replied, his mouth turned in a crooked smile, as Kai poked fun at his father. Zane watched his friends silently, observing them as he ate his burrito with utensils, cutting the burrito into reasonable, bite-sized pieces, instead of stuffing the whole thing in his mouth. He didn't know why he enjoyed observing his friends, as he always did. When he did this, however, he felt like he was contributing to the conversation somehow, or learning something of vital importance by watching them.

"Zane, why are you eating a burrito with a fork? There's a reason why it's called 'finger food'," Jay said, watching as the nindroid picked up a perfectly cut piece of burrito with his fork, put it in his mouth, and silently chewed before answering.

"It's referred to as manners," Zane responded simply, as he took another bite of his fork.

Kai snorted at this, as if Zane was being dimwitted. "Manners?" He said, "Who needs manners? You can function perfectly fine without them."

"Here, here," Lloyd muttered, lifting his sprite in the air before taking a sip, as if toasting to being free of manners. Nya rolled her eyes at the two boys.

"And yet you all wonder why only one of you has a girlfriend," Nya said, making the others laugh, even though they knew she was proving a good point.

In the middle of laughing, Cole's cell phone rang, making him jump in surprise at the sudden loud noise coming from his pocket. The others kept talking as Cole got up from the table, walking a couple of feet in order to answer the phone. He didn't use the phone that much, so when he did get a call, it was most likely for private reasons. Zane did not join in on the conversations that the others were having. Instead, his focus was on Cole, as he watched the black haired man flip the phone open and answer the call, putting the device up to his ear.

"Yeah?" He said into the phone, staring off into the distance. Someone replied on the other end, which Zane could hear, thanks to his handy super hearing. It made "accidentally" hearing things quite easy.

"Hello. This is Cole, right?" The voice on the other end asked.

"Yeah. Who's this?" Cole asked.

"Mr. Garmadon."

"Lord Garmadon has my phone number?" Cole choked out in surprise, his eyes bulging slightly.

"Lloyd gave it to me for emergencies. But that's not important right now." Garmadon said. Cole's eyebrows furrowed at the urgency in Garmadon's voice. Zane leaned in closer towards Cole's direction, feeling anxious as to what the emergency was.

"What is important? Did something happen?" Cole asked, his voice becoming a gravely serious tone. The others stopped talking as soon as they heard Cole's voice change, an indicator something super serious was going on.

"Well…" Garmadon paused, making Zane incredibly uncomfortable, the suspense keeping him on the edge of his seat. Garmadon then finished his sentence. Zane's breath hitched in his throat, as the world began to spin underneath the bench. The whole world went black, with only one sentence repeating, over and over in his mind:

_"It's Doctor Julien." ___

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know!! I know!! D: I hate myself and my obsessive love for cliffhangers too :(


	4. Green Eyes and Grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zane struggles after the news, grieving and thinking in a very dark fashion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT: What?! Crazy! I got another chapter in already o.o This is so weird o.o Anyways, I hope you enjoy! Also, there may be a slight trigger warning-ish? Zane gets really really depressed, and… Nothing happens, no worries, but in case you are sensitive to such things, I am warning you in advance. Please Enjoy!

The death had been simple. A heart attack. His father had entered the hospital by ambulance, and died moments after he was admitted. In a way, the death of Dr. Julien was ironic. A decorated man, a revolutionary inventor for all of Ninjago, dying from something as common as a heart attack. It almost felt unfair, for this genius to die of something so… So normal. It was something like that, that brought humanity back to people, making them realize once more of the mortality they all possessed.

Dr. Julien's death was devastating, of course. His funeral was well attended to, inventors from all over the world coming to pay their respects to a life-changing man. They had all bowed their heads in grief, even though most of them hadn't even know him. Zane, and what was left of his family, were the only ones who cried.

He hadn't left much behind in his will. Only a few choice things, for Zane and his brothers. The scrawl on the paper looked rushed, like it always did. The paper had been peppered with tears by the end of Zane reading it, it being one of the last things he had of his father.

From the Doctor's will, Jay received all of the blueprints the inventor had ever owned, saying he was resting the next generations of inventors in Jay's hands, a boy who had potential he had never seen before. Kai received a golden sword, that of which Dr. Julien had crafted back when he was much younger. Cole received the man's old set of paintbrushes, pushing him to pursue his love of the artistic things.

Zane received a golden, mechanical watch, one that his dad had received from his own father. As soon as the watch was given to him, he broke down into yet another fit of crying, curling up on the ground and becoming unmoving, crying as he stared at the watch his father had always worn on his right wrist. The other ninja had to move Zane out of the room and carry him into his bed, for Zane could not move himself any longer.

That was where he now lay, staring at the visible cogs and gears click and move with rhythm, never stopping. Tears still leaked from his eyes, seeming as though they would never stop. As if they had a mind of their own.

It had just seemed like his father had been fine. The last time he saw his father… Alive, he had been healthy and happy, anticipating his birthday in the next two months… Tears began to steam faster, as he thought of those askew glasses, and that beaming smile his father always wore.

What had been Zane's last words to his father? What was the last thing he told his father before he never saw him again? Zane dug into his memory bank, trying to remember the last thing he ever said to his father:

"I don't have a heart."

Zane's eyes squeezed shut, as the empty feeling in his chest got stronger, a feeling of crushing weight squeezing the air and self control out of him. He began to cry hysterically once more, tears streaming from his eyes.

If only he had known. If only he had known those would be the last words he would get to say to his father, he would have said something better. He would've told his father how much he would miss him. He would have told him that he loved him, and that his death would change Zane's life forever. He would have pleaded for his father to not leave him, no matter how childish it would have been. He would've said goodbye. He would have told him anything else, anything besides saying he didn't have a heart.

Zane was beginning to get a headache from crying so much, but he could not stop. The pain was too great. _The pain was too great. ___

What was he supposed to do with his life now? What was there to live for? Ninjago was safe, they no longer needed ninja. His only family was gone, someone that he loved. His life was crumbling before his eyes. Crumbling, _crumbling __, _ **crumbling __**. Dissolving between his hands.__

What was the point in it all? What did he have left to cling onto? What was he supposed to do from here? All he could do was cry, weep and mourn and grieve.

Did he have a life? He wasn't living. He wasn't breathing. He had no heart. Only wires that kept him alive. Wires. _Wires. ___

Zane's crying stopped, and he sat up in bed quickly. The wires. A quick escape.

He tore of his shirt without hesitation, and threw open the mechanical hatch, with a quickness he did not usually possess with this task.

Inhuman, inhuman, _inhuman. ___

He knew he was not emotionally stable. Warning, blaring red lights blinded his vision, warning him to be cautious before proceeding. Zane reached his hand in his internal workings blindly, trying to find any wire. Any wire at all. Any wire would work. All he had to do would be to pull it out and-

_"Zane?!" ___Somebody exclaimed. Zane froze, his hand wrapped around a wire, ready to rip it out.

The bunk bed creaked as something walked up the ladder to Zane, putting extra weight on the bed. Zane wanted to warn the something that their added weight would most likely break the bed, but he found that his lips were unmoving. They were paralyzed, as was the rest of his body. The something pried his cold fingers off the wire, and closed the hatch hastily with a click.

"Zane? Zane, what are you thinking? Zane? Tin can?" The something, now identified as a person, said. At the familiar nickname, Zane's eyes cleared, the red warning disappearing.

Cole watched as the glowing red in Zane's eyes disappeared, returning back to the normal icy blue. They gained consciousness once more, as they focused onto the first thing they saw; Cole's green eyes. Cole looked back at Zane with worry and fright.

Zane had scared his own brother… What had he been thinking… He couldn't do this to his friend.

"Zane…" Cole whispered, as Zane began to cry hysterically. Cole immediately wrapped his arms around the white haired man, covering him in a safe ball. Zane cried harder in the safety of his leader's arms, burrowing his face into Cole's shoulder.

They sat like this for the longest time, Zane crying into Cole, soaking his shirt. Cole tried not to move, keeping his arms around his brother. He knew what Zane had been about to do. He knew what was going through Zane's head. There was no way in the sixteen realms that he would be leaving Zane alone now.

The comfort of Cole's arms made him feel safer. Human contact felt safe. He needed someone, anyone. Every time his leader shifted, Zane became scared, worried that Cole would let go and leave him alone once more. But Cole never left, holding onto Zane as tightly as he could, letting him cry on his shoulder. Zane's crying eventually toned down, until it became only the occasional sniffle.

He leaned a little away from Cole's hold, lifting his hand to wipe the wetness from his eyes. Cole unwrapped his arms from around Zane, and for a couple of seconds, he panicked, thinking once more that he was going to leave. But Cole did not leave.

"Let's… Let's go get you cleaned up," Cole said, trying to get Zane to look at him. The ninja only nodded weakly. He let Cole pick him up and carry him down from the top of the bunk, heading to the bathroom. Cole was a tad bit taller than Zane, so it felt as if it was a whole different world, being carried by him.

Once they arrived in the bathroom, Cole calmly set Zane down on the bath mat, where Zane curled up, tucking his knees tight against his chest. He watched as Cole pulled back the shower curtain, and turned the water on to a nice warm temperature, getting the bath ready for him.

Cole then sat down next to Zane, his green eyes trying to make purchase with the pools of light blue.

"Zane, I'm going to need you to open up for a couple of seconds so I can take off your pants," Cole said, blue, dulled eyes looking back at him. Zane didn't want to move. He didn't want to uncurl himself. Feeling curled up felt safe. He didn't want to detach himself from the fetal position that he was in.

Zane shook his head weakly, holding himself tighter, as if to hold himself together.

"Please Zane?" Cole whispered, giving Zane a solid stare. He needed an anchor, something he could hold onto, so that he would be able to uncurl himself. Cole knew he couldn't do this on his own.

"Jay?" Cole yelled, trying to yell over the running water in the bathtub.

Running feet approached the bedroom door, which opened.

"Yeah?" Jay asked.

"In here," Cole said. Jay came into the bathroom, frowning instantly at the look of turmoil in Zane's eyes. Jay then looked to Cole, who looked concerned, and who also had a dusting of red on his cheeks, "I need your help."

"What can I do?" Jay asked.

"Can you let Zane cling to you so I can take his pants off?" His leader said.

In any other setting, Jay would have burst out laughing, jokes pouring out of his mouth. But as he looked at the ball curled up on the bathroom floor, he knew things were much more serious. Yes, Zane was heavily grieving. Of course he was, that was normal. But something was off. Something was very, very wrong with Zane.

"Sure," Jay said, as he leaned down and weaved his arms around Zane, and propped him up in a standing position, "Come on buddy."

Zane clung to Jay as if his life depended on it. It reminded Jay of a sloth, something that would not let go, no matter what happened. Cole tugged off Zane's pants, and was about to take off his boxers, when Zane squeaked a silent "no".

"Zane, we gotta get you in that bath," Jay said.

"It'll help you calm down," Cole added, a serious tone gracing his voice.

"I… I can do it myself…" Zane said weakly as he slowly let go of Jay.

Cole eased Zane down back on the ground. Zane took off his boxers, and as soon as he did so, crawled into the bathtub, which was now full of warm water. As Zane curled into a ball once more in the bathtub, Cole turned to Jay.

"Can you get a change of clothes for Zane when he's finished with his bath? And go get Sensei after that?" Cole asked of his fellow team member.

"Can't you do all that?" Jay responded. He didn't mean it in a rude, lazy way. But he didn't understand why he had to be the errand boy.

"I can't let Zane out of my sight," Cole said sternly. Jay looked puzzled by this.

"Can't let him out of your…" Jay said, his voice fading as he put two and two together. Zane looking horrible and acting very fragile, Cole looking scared and worried; Zane needed help. Now.

Jay rushed out of the bathroom, forgetting the new change of clothes, running off to go find Sensei Wu. Cole turned back to the broken teen, who was curled up in the bath water. Cole grabbed the shower head, and turned the water back on, this time turning it on in the shower head. Cole washed Zane's hair out, as the nindroid began to cry once more.

 

"He didn't do anything, did he?" Sensei asked in concern hours later, as they watched the sleeping, white haired boy.

"I stopped him before he could," Cole replied, grimacing as he remember that horrible moment when he walked in… When he had thought he had been too late…

Sensei nodded silently, still watching his pupil. There was a couple moments of silence between the two, the only sound being Zane's breathing. They both knew what the nindroid had been about to do. The boy had almost taken his life. Sensei looked at Cole. The black haired teen would be the only one to bring peace back to Zane, to heal the gaping wound that was taking hold of him. Cole understood the boy more than anyone else did.

"We have to send him off with my brother tomorrow to the monastery. He will not be able to heal here, where the world asks so much of him," Sensei said. Cole frowned at this.

"I can't let him out of my sight, sir," Cole said, thinking about what had just happened, "I can't let him go on his-"

"I know, Cole. For now the world is at peace. And Zane needs you now more than ever. You were the one to save his life a few hours ago. I think it would be reasonable to let you go with him," Sensei said, smiling slightly. Cole nodded, smiling a little to himself. Zane needed him.

"Thank you, Sensei," Cole said. After a moment of comfortable silence, they both stood up. Sensei was heading for the hallway, to leave the boys to their sleep, when the old man suddenly stopped in the door frame.

"You're a good leader, and an even better friend, Cole," Sensei said while glancing at the leader. He then smiled to himself, as he said one other thing, "And I hope you find that cure to your head cold, while you're with Zane. I think both of you will benefit from some time away."

Without another cryptic word from Sensei, he quietly shut the door behind him.

Cole instinctively began to walk towards his bed, when he heard a whimper from Zane, who was experiencing a bad dream. Cole frowned, wanting to join Zane and comfort him. This thought, however, brought about a sudden rush of heat that flushed his face, the unpredictable head cold tightening its grip on him once more. This was becoming an odd cold, taking hold at the oddest times.

There was a rustling in the dark, surprising Cole. He looked back at his bed to find Kai's russet brown eyes staring back at him in the night, from the bottom bunk.

"I won't say anything," Kai whispered, looking up at the conflicted man. The rest of the boys were asleep. Cole would not be judged for going to comfort Zane, and Kai knew their leader was the only one to help the already closed off nindroid, "Anyways, he needs you."

Cole nodded, and as silently as he could, joined Zane in his bunk. He carefully slipped under the covers with Zane, laying side by side. He didn't know whether to reach out and touch Zane or not. He didn't want to awaken him or anything of the sort.

However, this problem was solved for him, as Zane turned in his sleep, rolling into Cole's warm body. Sleep-Zane wrapped his arms around Cole, pulling him closer to his ice cold body, the whimpering stopping quickly. Cole relaxed, and wrapped his arms around Zane too, burrowing his face into the white, good smelling hair that he had helped shampoo hours earlier. Cole's head cold immediately vanished, as he quickly fell asleep with Zane in his arms.


	5. Road Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The eventful trip on the way to the Monestary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically, filler chapter. Short, shouldn't make sense, kinda boring. Just like their car ride would have been, if the author hadn't stepped in.  
> A.K.A: Fluff to combat the horrible depression that was last chapter.

Zane woke up that morning at the same time as always. Six o'clock. He did not want to move, he did not like waking to face the first full day without his father. For the first time in his long life, he did not feel rested. He felt, which he could only imagine, was tiredness. His eyes felt like they were stinging, irritated from crying so much the night before. The heaviness of grief still weighed greatly on his chest, making his lungs fill with white hot air in each new breath that he took.

The prospect of feeling tired for the first time, however, was not the reason why Zane’s heart skipped a surprised beat when he woke up. No, it was the fact that someone else was in his bed. Someone of which he was intertwined with, limbs intersecting with each other, his arms around the person at his side. The person he had become so affiliated with in sleep was comfortably warm, like a radiant sun. It created the urge to snuggle into said other person and disappear in their warmth, in an attempt to hide away from the cold world waiting for him. The grief and despair and loss… Yes, he would much rather just stay with this warm heater by his side.  
However, this person had yet to be identified. As much as Zane liked being kept safe by his heater, it wasn't at all safe, in any sense, to cuddle with a human that snuck into your bed in the middle of the night.

Slowly, quietly, as if to not wake the other person, he pulled away himself out of their chest to look at their face. Dark skin, lidded thick eyelashes, and swept black hair; Cole.

As to why Cole was sleeping with him instead of sleeping in his own bed, Zane did not know. His main concern, at the moment, was to get out of the leader's grasp and escape out of human watch. He needed to find a quiet place to mourn before the morning began. Even though Zane loved his brothers very much, he often felt like he wanted to awaken earlier, so he could have a little bit more private time to himself. A time when he could be truly alone. Afterall, Zane was in no way an extrovert.  
He no longer had his father to reprogram him, though. He would always wake up at six in the morning, for the rest of his life. He would never be able to wake up earlier. He no longer had someone who could truly understand him, either. Someone who could understand how he worked, what he meant when he said things, who he was; Zane truly was on his own now.

His eyes stung, but no tears spilled out onto his cheeks. He had cried all the tears he could the night before. There was nothing left for him to cry out. No more tears, for now, could be shed for his father. Just because he couldn't cry, though, didn't mean he didn't feel the immense, gut-wrenching grief.  
Slowly, Zane tried to unglue himself from his brother without waking him up. It was a hard task to accomplish, seeing as how their limbs were interlaced in a complicated puzzle of sorts.

He was almost free. All that was left was his foot, which was clamped tightly in Cole's legs. Moving very carefully, he wiggled and nudged his foot out of its predicament. Zane watched Cole as he did so, watching to see if his leader would wake up from his russelling. However, no such thing occurred, Cole sleeping soundly. Zane sighed in relief as his foot came loose, finally free to escape.

"Good morning Zane."

Zane jumped in his laying position, as Cole said this in such a calm, awake voice. His eyelids opened, shining emerald eyes revealed behind them.

"How long were you awake?" Zane whispered, before thinking of another thing to add, "And why are you in my bed?"

"Long enough to witness your struggle," Cole whispered back, smirking, trying to get a smile out of Zane. However, all the boy did was stare at his leader with dull, blue eyes, "and I'm in your bed because you were having a nightmare."

"A nightmare? I do not recall it," Zane said silently. It was odd, to forget something, considering his memory banks were always correct. To have his systems fail him on the day after his father's death… It almost felt fitting, as though without his father alive somewhere in the land of Ninjago, he would not function correctly.

Cole looked at him with a look of concern. Any emotion at all that Zane was feeling, Cole could not see it, the blank look in his eyes haunting. It was unsettling, seeing someone he cared about so… Dead.

"How are you feeling?" Cole asked quietly, as Zane shifted to lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Zane closed his eyes as Cole asked this question, as if he had to think hard on how to answer.

"I'm not feeling," Zane stated quietly, his voice as monotone as ever. Cole felt a small lump build in his throat at this answer. Zane was a robot, sure, but he felt things. Happiness, sadness, anger; It was if he was shutting down on himself, slowly turning off all the qualities that made Zane… well, Zane.

Zane opened his eyes, and looked away from the ceiling to Cole once more, who was looking at him with a concern. It was a look that Cole only possessed when he was very, very worried. Zane tried to give him a reassuring smile, but all that came out was a grimace of discontent.

"Err, Zane… About last night," Cole began, and Zane immediately knew what he was going to mention, "When I walked in, were you about to-"

"Why are you still in my bed?"

Cole looked stunned, his wide green eyes staring into the dull blues. Zane never interrupted someone, unless it was severely important, due to his automatic manners. He was always very honest when it came to hard questions, just like a question Cole had been about to ask. And without a single moment of hesitation, Zane just… avoided a question by throwing a punch?

"E… Excuse me?" Cole stuttered, as Zane's stone-cold expression did not change.

"Why are you still in my bed?" He repeated.

"I… Uh, well, I guess I don't really know…" Cole answered, feeling taken aback. He knew Zane wasn't acting like his regular self, and he knew that the depression would be playing with his actions, but this was a whole new Zane, "I thought being here was helping-"

"You are not. Please leave."

Zane didn't know what had gotten into him, possessing him with the need to dismiss Cole, who Zane knew was only trying to help. He couldn't talk about the night before, though. He could not. The thoughts that had been running through his head and still were for that matter, were things he could not talk about. Things too close, that hurt too much. It was better to pretend they weren't there. To talk about them would ruin him.

He knew this was some kind of mental tactic that humans used when they didn't want to talk about something. They loved to avoid things. He was, even though an artificial being, no better than humans when it came to flaws.

He watched Cole crawl out of his bed, a look of hurt and sadness on his face. Zane wanted to say sorry, but he didn't. He had no energy left to say anything else.  
The room fell into a silence that was uncomfortable, as Cole retreated to his own bunk, a bed which had turned cold over night. He looked one more time over at Zane, who had rolled away, his back facing Cole.

Zane was shutting down, shutting out anyone left that he cared about, and it seemed as though nothing would be able to stop it.

* * *

 

It had been a couple of hours since they had left their home, riding in the Garmadon family mini-van. The air conditioning was on full blast, seeing as how the day was a hot and muggy one. The trunk was generously stuffed with suitcases, as if they were heading out to a long vacation. In a way, they were.

Misako was driving the grey vehicle, keeping her eyes on the road. Garmadon sat next to her in the passenger seat, snoring as he slept soundly. It almost seemed as though he was making up for all the years of sleepless nights that he had accumulated, being an evil lord. Cole and Zane sat in the back seat, an uncomfortable silence surrounding them. Cole didn't know what to say to Zane; he didn't want to offend Zane like he had that morning. And Zane didn't know what to say either. He felt bad for snapping at Cole, who had only been trying to help. A stalemate of fear settled between them, with no sign of escaping.

The tension between the boys was noticeable of course, and the snoring of their ex-enemy did not help the awkward feeling that was spreading through the car.

"So, boys," Misako said, clearing her throat and trying to pick up conversation, "How does it feel for the city of Ninjago to finally be at peace?"

There was absolute silence. No one responded. Misako looked in the rear-view mirror to see Zane shrug as he watched his golden watch click and tick, the only interaction he had given anyone in the car thus far.

Zane glanced at Cole quickly, to see if he was going to respond to the question. However, it seemed as though he physically could not speak. His cheeks were slightly tinged with green, and he looked very uncomfortable, hunched over himself, holding his stomach.

Zane's mouth formed a small "o", as he recalled the disaster that was Cole's tendency for motion sickness. And it certainly wasn't helping, with Misako driving and all. Misako was a really nice woman, and all the ninja loved her like they would their own mother. But her driving wasn't the safest. She jerked around a lot, and drove as if she was very, very distracted. Not at all good for someone prone to getting sick in moving things.

"Are you okay?" Zane whispered to Cole, trying to not alert Misako that her driving was causing pain.

Cole looked up in surprise. Zane’s voice, directed at him? Cole looked into the nindroid’s blue eyes with hope. He felt a fluttery feeling in his stomach as Zane talked to him again, feeling an indication of some new hope for the two of them after the morning scene. The fluttery feeling could have also very well been from the nausea he was experiencing.

"Honestly? No. I'm feeling horrible," Cole mumbled, as another wave of nausea rolled in, making him grab his stomach again. Zane smirked only slightly, something no one saw.

However, that smile quickly disappeared as a sudden, loud snore came from the man in the passenger seat. It surprised Misako, who accidentally swerved, making a passing car honk at the van. Cole moaned in agony at the swerve, feeling every jerk and pull of the reckless driving.

The swerve also woke up Garmadon, whose eyes snapped open in surprise.

"Are… Are we there yet?" The man stuttered out, before losing his voice to a violent yawn.

"Does it look like we're there yet?" Misako said, gesturing to the sprawling highway that they were driving on, taking a hand off the wheel to do so.

"No, not really," Garmadon responded, snorting at the sarcasm they both liked to bicker with.

Garmadon then looked back at the two boys in the back. Zane was casually looking at his golden watch. And as for the other, it seemed like Cole had disappeared behind Garmadon's seat, curled out of sight.

"Cole? Are you okay?" Garmadon asked, rising out of his seat and leaning over his chair, trying to find the curled-up Cole. Misako swerved again, distracted by the movement in her peripheral vision. Cole exclaimed in agony once more, the jerk of the car sending his gut flipping around in a mocking dance.

"I hate you!" Cole bellowed, squeezing his stomach tighter.

Garmadon looked taken aback, scowling a little and leaning back in disgust.

"Excuse me?" The man scoffed.

Zane sighed slightly, before explaining to Garmadon that Cole did not hate him, but instead was expressing hatred of his stomach, “When Cole is unhappy, he simply internalizes it and riddles himself with self-hate,” Garmadon gave the nindroid an odd look, “Being quite car sick makes him unhappy." Zane pointed out, as Cole cried out a painful moan in example. He looked greener than he had a couple of minutes prior.

"Well, why didn't you say so! Why does no one ever tell me anything around here!" Misako exclaimed, angered that no one had informed her of a sick child in the back seat of her car, "There's a rest stop right up here, we can relax there. I'm glad you said something, Zane."

"Always here to help," Zane replied, as Cole moaned again. Zane reached over, and patted the anguished man's back in sympathy. There was a couple seconds of peace, a disturbing silence in which Cole's sickened moans were absent. That was, until a gagging noise emitted from Cole, who was desperately trying not to puke in the Garmadon family van.

"Oh dear," Zane commented.

"STEP ON IT!" Garmadon screamed, peeling his back off of his seat, trying to distance himself as far as he could from the person behind him. He didn't get very far, however, seeing as how he was buckled into his seat.

"N-" Cole was about to protest, knowing that speed would not bode well for his stomach. However, it was too late. Misako hit the accelerator, shooting them faster towards the rest area. Cole moaned louder, the waves of sickness becoming more and more unbearable.

"This is illegal! We are breaking the law!" Zane exclaimed, holding onto his seat frantically as they hurdled down the highway.

"It's an emergency!" Misako yelled over the screaming grown man next to her and the loud moans of the black haired teen, as she tried to verify her illegal actions.

As soon as they arrived at the rest area, Cole threw open his door and rocketed towards the men's room. Zane followed behind his leader for moral support. Upon arriving into the restroom, he dove for the nearest empty stall, hunched over the toilet in a matter of seconds, getting rid of his sick.

Zane dashed over and held back any black hairs that were long enough to get in the way, as Cole retched into the toilet. He had done this many of times before, being the designated "Cole Helper" when it came to the leader getting sick on trips. Because of his experience, he knew exactly what to do.

"Thanks," Cole managed, before retching once more, his green face disappearing from view. In a few minutes, Cole was done, flushing the sick and wiping the sweat off his brow.

"Here," Zane said, handing a paper towel to Cole, who gladly took it to wipe his mouth.

"I thought I was supposed to be taking care of you, not the other way around," Cole joked, as he threw away the used paper towel.

"Relationships only work when both people are helping each other," Zane pointed out. This wasn’t the first time that Zane thought he could have been an excellent show host for relationship advice.

Cole's head cold caught up to him as Zane said this, the word "relationship" making him feel flushed. This was odd, considering how head colds weren't activated when one heard a simple word. He watched as the nindroid traveled to the sink, washing his hands of any germs he may have contracted. Cole cleared his throat, knowing this was the time to talk about the events that had conspired that morning, now that they were alone.

"Look, Zane, I'm sorry for this morning… I should have been more sensitive. Of course you were going to react that way to something so personal, I should have thought that through before saying what I said," Cole said, joining the boy to wash his hands. Zane frowned slightly, noticing that Cole blamed himself for the stand-off they had.

"I am sorry too Cole. It was rude of me to push you away like that. You didn't mean any harm by it, you were only trying to help," Zane said, averting his eyes away from Cole as he turned the sink off.

"It was wrong for me to pry," Cole said, frowning at Zane's subtle dismissal of his apology.

"It was wrong for me-" Zane began.

"We both did something we aren't proud of," Cole laughed, "Let's just forget about it, alright? Start again?"

Zane nodded, still feeling bad for hurting Cole's feelings. The nindroid brought Cole into a frail hug.

Cole's head cold flashed intensely as his face suddenly became extremely hot, the heat strikingly similar to experiencing a flash fever. Yes, the hug felt light and frail, as if Zane was broken and weak. But Cole still felt light headed at the contact, being close enough to smell the minty aftershave scent that Zane naturally radiated. Zane's cold hands against his back felt somewhat refreshing, easing the heat he was suddenly feeling. Cole tried to ignore it, but his cold was becoming more and more troublesome, harder to ignore.

"Ready to go back?" Zane asked, stepping away from the hug, a solemn look placed on the robot’s features. Zane looked so sad, so dead; the death of his father was crushing him in a way Cole never knew the nindroid could be crushed.

"Yeah. Let's go," Cole said, as they both walked back to the car that was the death vehicle. However, Garmadon volunteered to drive the rest of the way, and so the drive was smooth from there on. Within an hour, the boys were sleeping in the back seat, as the quiet drive headed towards their new home, and hopefully healing as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FLUFF :D Poor Cole and his "head cold". Such a clueless little ninja is he :3
> 
> Next: Arrival at the monastery!! :D Woot!


	6. The Monastery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew arrives at their new home, and Cole comes upon a very shocking realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to InWayoftheWind, my first commentor!!! :D Thank you so so much!   
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

Arriving at the monastery felt like something out of a dream. A paradise only few knew about. It was far away from Ninjago City, located in the depths of absolutely nowhere. It seemed to be in the middle of a completely different universe, resting in it's own version of reality.

The monastery was embedded in a rocky mountainside, the face of the building looking out on a vast forest full of greenery and life, a magical green spectacle to lay eyes on. At the feet of the building lay a small, peaceful village. The village seemed to be surrounded by a stucco-like wall, keeping unwanted things and people out of it's peaceful life. A single road lead up to this small settlement; a gorgeous drive.

The two boys had their faces pressed up against the car windows, looking up at the tall green trees, the flourish of flowers, the fluttering butterflies, and the sparkling creeks the seemed to posses the clearest water they had ever seen. In curiosity, Cole rolled down his window, and was met with the beautiful sounds of nature. Garmadon turned off the radio as they all rolled down their windows, silently enjoying the sounds nature produced.

They soon came upon the small town, and the sounds of nature morphed into the sounds of laughter and joy. Cole smiled as they drove by playing kids, barking dogs, and happy families. Zane looked down in his lap, not able to look at the happy families, without feeling a slight pang in his heart. The families were yet just another reminder of what he would never be able to have again.

The gates opened to the monastery as they approached them, and shut behind them once they were inside. Once Garmadon had parked the car, they all opened their doors, stepping out onto the cobblestone ground and into their new, paradise home.

The humidity seemed to have vanished, and a cool, refreshing breeze came by, ruffling Cole's black long hair.

Zane looked at his new home. The stone building was grand and impressive, as was the rest of the place they were now living in. He had a hard time enjoying it, though. He couldn't enjoy the nature, or the small village, or the art that was the building; nothing was pleasing to the eye anymore. It wasn't beautiful or lovely. He could not find enjoyment in any of it, where at one time, he could have.

"Hey Zane, could you help with the bags for a second?" Cole said, pulling Zane out of his mindless thinking. Zane gave a solemn nod, and helped Cole with the bags in the trunk, pulling them out and setting them on the ground. Cole seemed to naturally have an easier time, thank to his superhuman strength, and so he lifted the heavier bags. Zane was pulling out the suitcases, when he glanced over at Cole.

Cole's muscles were flexed, as he grunted, heaving Garmadon's heavy suitcase out of the van. Zane looked down at the bags at the ground, feeling ashamed with himself. He had made Cole worry about him, had made his leader come along on a trip that was probably a hindrance to Cole. He was causing so many problems, he was making a scene and concerning his friends. Guilt washed over him, feeling the weight of being cared for falling hard on his shoulders.

"Welcome!" A man with blonde hair said, as he approached the newcomers and the van, "We're so glad to see you made it here safely."

Cole grimaced at this, as though the person didn't even know how lucky they were to have arrived safely. If Garmadon hadn't taken over the driving, there would have been a good chance they would have never made it.

"If you wouldn't mind following me, I'll show you around the monastery. You can bring your bags with you," the man said, beckoning them inside. They tugged their suitcases along with them, as they entered the building cut into the mountain.

Cole couldn't help but gaze in amazement at the art, and architecture, of the building. It was decorated elegantly with red and gold colors. Paintings of dragons adorned the walls, paper lanterns hung from the ceilings, and canvas sliding doors opened to balconies, of where one could enjoy some fresh air. The hallway floors were furnished with dark wood, differing from the bedrooms slightly, which had bamboo flooring. The canvas doors to the outside were all open, letting the cool breezes flow in and out as they pleased, making the peaceful house a comfortable living space.

"Reminds you of the old monastery we used to live in, doesn't it?" Cole whispered, leaning over to Zane, as the tour man guided them through the kitchen and dining room, all of which were located on the first level. Zane nodded in agreement. It did have a likeness to that of their old home. Therefor, they had an easier time growing a liking for it, rather than if they had showed up in a building without similar qualities.

The man guided them up the stairs, showing them to their rooms.

"Over here is where the Garmadons will be sleeping," the blonde man said, pointing to a room on the left side of the hallway upstairs. The two adults entered the room, smiling in contentment. The man then lead Cole and Zane down the hall to a room on the right, "And this will be your room," the ninja gave their gratitude, and entered their new room.

It was a nice, decent sized room, with a wonderful homey feeling, just like the rest of the monastery possessed. Cole and Zane got their own bathroom, of which they would share. Two dressers were against one wall,a place for them to both separately put their things. A bunk bed was pushed against a wall. The mattress, when Cole sat on it, felt as heavenly as a mattress could feel. Cole's favorite feature was not the bed, even though they felt amazing. No, his favorite thing was the balcony.

The view was absolutely stunning, seeing as they were on the second floor of a monastery that had a small village below and a sprawling forest after that. They could see forests and nature and beauty for miles. They could hear the noises of the forest, they could watch the clouds go by; It was a breathtaking symphony of senses.

Cole didn't know where to start his adventuring first. The training dojo in the basement? A walk in the beautiful nature? An adventure through town?

Cole's eyes fell onto Zane, who was leaning on the black metal, ornate rail of the balcony, looking out into the blue sky. The breeze slightly ruffled his snow white hair, and he sighed softly, as he closed his eyes and inhaled. He looked so calm, so graceful; so flawless.

Cole's stomach flipped in a somersault, his head cold catching up to him once more, heat rising to his cheeks. He quickly looked away from Zane, who seemed to be causing the flashes as of late. For some reason, ever since the battle of the Overlord, ever since he had almost lost his brother, Cole had been experiencing a head cold. Every time he would see Zane, he would blush, and try to cover it up. He had gotten better at controlling himself, but he knew he couldn't pass it off as a head cold much longer. Colds were not triggered by only one person at random moments, that much he knew. The only problem was, he didn't know what was wrong with him.

His stomach did not cease in performing elaborate somersaults, almost as if they were trying to awaken his nasty car sickness once more. He knew he had to do something to settle himself down.

"Zane, I think I'm going to take a shower. I'm still feeling a little woozy. Are you going to be okay on your own for about ten minutes?" Cole asked, looking at Zane with a tiny bit of concern. He didn't want to leave Zane alone, but he had to take a shower. After all, he couldn't keep an eye on Zane all the time. Unless Zane showered with him, god forbid that would ever happen.

His stomach took a turn for the worse at that thought, and Cole didn't wait to see Zane's answer, which was a nod in confirmation that he would be okay. He ran to the bathroom with a speed only a ninja could posses, and slammed the door shut behind him. He needed to find out what was wrong with him. For now however, his main concern was to get a shower, and calm his unsettled stomach down.

Zane sighed as he was left alone, for the first time since yesterday evening. He sat down on the balcony floor, and put his head in his hands, massaging his temples.

The grief he was holding in his head was weighing him down, giving him a mental headache of sorts. He felt like closing his eyes, and never opening them again. Just to disappear. He had no meaning, no meaning whatsoever…

He shook his head. He told Cole he could handle being alone for ten minutes. Cole trusted him. He had to stop thinking things like such. He knew it caused mental instability.

But he couldn't help it. He couldn't help feeling as though all was lost, as if there wasn't anything left to fight for. He couldn't stop the thoughts of death, of grief, of sadness, of depression.

A bird landed on the railing above him, and he looked up, bringing his head up out of his hands. The bird chirped at him, cocked its head in curiosity. The being hopped a few times on the metal railing, before spreading it's wings and taking off quickly. Zane sighed, and rested his head back in his hands.

He was, in a way, jealous of that bird. It could fly, and keep flying, no matter what was going on around it. The bird could so easily decide it was done, and crash into the building. It would be so easy to just stop caring, stop trying. But the bird kept flying, never thinking for a second that crashing into a building was an option.

The bird was living. It was breathing. It was enjoying life, and it was life. A beating heart, a reason to exist.

Zane was just an abomination. He wasn't supposed to work. To move. To feel emotions, no less.

He wasn't supposed to exist.

His eyes stung, as the tears welled up and rolled down his cheeks once more, after a morning of not being able to cry. They flowed like the clear, sparkling creeks in the woods of their new home, landing on the balcony floor, tinting the concrete ground to a darker shade.

Was he even living? It didn't make sense to him. He wasn't living. He didn't have a heart, a beating heart. He wasn't alive. But how could he feel so alive when he was with his brothers, smiling in joy with them? How could he feel so alive, if he was not living to begin with?

He wanted to shut off his emotions so badly. He wanted them to disappear, so they couldn't plague him. Just a flip of a switch, and he would have the ability to feel nothing. Never be able to feel again, for as long as he wanted.

But that meant he wouldn't feel giddiness with Cole's antics. Or amusement from Kai's hot-hotheadedness. Or enjoyment with Jay's stupid inventions. Or joy in Lloyd's growth.

Zane began to quickly wipe his tears away when he heard the water from the shower turned off, indicating Cole was done with his shower. He could not let Cole see that he had been crying. He wanted Cole to trust him, to believe that he could be alone for at least ten minutes.

However, Zane could not hide his red eyes well enough, for when Cole came out of the bathroom with wet black hair, he immediately frowned.

"Zane…?" Cole said softly, worry plain in his voice. He sprinted over to Zane when the man did not answer, covering the distance between the bathroom and the balcony with only a couple long strides. Zane sniffled a little and rubbed his eyes, as Cole's arms wrapped around him, immediately covering him in safety. Zane cuddled into his brothers offered safety.

"Were you crying Zane? Are you okay, Tin Can?" Cole asked, holding his brother tight.

"I-I'll be okay," Zane stuttered through a sniffle, wiping his nose against his sleeve.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Cole asked.

"No…" Zane said, closing his eyes in the comfort of his leader's embrace.

Cole frowned, knowing that Zane wasn't doing well. He tried to think of what he could do to make Zane feel better. Cole reflected back on what he knew about Zane, what his tendencies and mannerisms were. Whenever Zane was feeling down, back before his father had died, Zane would go out on walks by himself. He would always come back happier than when he left. That seemed like a good enough idea, to go out on a walk.

"How about we go on a walk, Zane," Cole suggested, as Zane snuggled deeper into his chest.

"I just want to stay here…" Zane mumbled, not wanting to move. Not wanting to do anything.

"Let's go for a walk. It will help," Cole insisted, unwrapping his arms from around Zane. The white haired ninja protested, but Cole would not cave in. He grabbed one of Zane's ice cold hands, and pulled him up off the floor. The "head cold" rushed forward as he held Zane's hand, Zane so close to Cole… Cole could feel batted breath leave Zane's mouth and brush against his, as he was forced to stand up against his will.

Flustered, Cole forgot to let go of Zane's hand. He stared into Zane's eyes, getting lost in the icy blues. Being so close, Cole could see the speckles of navy blue, of electric blue hues, that all came together to create a stunning, frosty blue. For Zane, the emerald orbs of Cole's were making Zane short circuit, as if his speech synapses were suddenly compromised. It was a fuzzy feeling, a feeling Zane didn't quite understand. His already muddled mind, full to the brim with sadness, felt confused at the programmed Dopamine release that was occurring.

"Okay. A walk," Zane said, the only words he could manage that made sense strung together. The two boys stared into each other's eyes, and for some reason, Cole felt the urge to lean forward.

_"Lean forward and do what?! Why would I lean forward?"_ Cole yelled at himself, keeping his urge at bay. There was no reason to lean forward, there was nothing that would be accomplished in fulfilling his sudden desire to shift his body weight forward.

"Uh, um, I'll go get my shoes on," Cole stuttered, noticing that he had been holding Zane's hand for an unreasonably long time. He quickly let go of Zane's hand and ran off to find his gym shoes in their unpacked luggage, heat rising to his face in embarrassment. Zane was left behind in shock, not understanding what was going on with himself, or with Cole.

Zane blushed a little to himself, scolding his muddled mind as he thought of staring into those deep green eyes. He then shuddered and looked away from Cole's general direction, feeling as though something was very wrong with him. Something very foreign, that he was not used to.

Soon, they walked out the door of their room, and headed outside, for a nice refreshing walk through their new home.

* * *

 

A walk ended up being a good call, as the nature brought a small smile to Zane's face.

Zane had guided the walk, following whatever path he chose to take. At one point, they were walking in a direction based on which way the prettiest flowers were. At another point, they simply followed a butterfly. It really was an adventure, and Cole was yet again amazed by the uniqueness of Zane's mannerisms.

They were now resting, having found a nice, low-branched tree to perch in, pausing before heading back to the monastery for dinner. They gazed up at the green leaves together, of which were turning a pretty orange color due to the hue of the sunset.

"Hey Cole?" Zane asked, looking up at the branch above him, where Cole was. Cole was laying with his back up against the tree trunk, his eyes closed, and his mouth upturned in a smile at his contentedness.

"Hmm?" Cole said, his eyes still closed as he rested. Zane bit his lower lip, wondering if he should ask such a personal question, that had been bothering him deeply. However, it was too late for second guessing, seeing as how he already had grabbed Cole's attention.

"Am I… Alive?" Zane asked, hesitating before finishing his question. He looked up at Cole's branch, to see Cole looking right back at him, a slight surprise gracing his features.

"Are you alive?" Repeated Cole, sounding a little worried.

"Yes. Am I?" Zane asked, looking down in his lap in nervousness as to what Cole might say. There was quietness for a couple of seconds, as Cole thought his answer through.

"Well," Cole began, making Zane look back up at him, "I mean, it's up to you Zane. It really is up to you on whether you decide you're alive or not. I don't think anyone can really answer that question but you. That's your journey to figure out. But personally, in my own opinion… You are the most alive person I know."

Zane blushed and looked at his hands in his lap. He had never been called alive before. He had never been called lively, or of full of life. In fact, he was normally called dull, lifeless, and monotone. It gave him a short smile, it made him feel somewhat better, hearing his brother call him "alive".

"Thank you…" Zane whispered, a small smile still in bloom on his face.

"Sure. Now let's get back to the monastery. They're probably wondering where we are." Cole said, hopping down from his branch and landing without making a sound. Zane followed after him, with a slight brisk in his step, thanks to the refreshing walk, and to his friend, who viewed him as more alive than the bird who could keep on flying.

* * *

 

While they had been gone, Misako and Garmadon had cooked an amazing dinner, along with a large mess in the kitchen. After all, it had been a long time since they had done something together as a couple. Their organization and rhythm seemed to be a tad bit off.

"This is so good, Misako. Thank you so much," Cole groaned, as he stuffed his mouth full of Yukon potatoes, seasoned with rosemary and thyme.

"Yes, I am in agreement. You have prepared a wonderful dinner," Zane said, nodding, before taking a perfect sized bite of shredded beef pot roast.

"God I missed our cooking, this is wonderful," Garmadon commented as he ate, his green beans the only things having not been touched on his plate.

"Thank you guys!" Misako said, smiling the biggest smile she had ever graced them with. She seemed genuinely happy from the happiness in the room, caused by the meal. She loved to cook, and to have her love expressed to the ones she cared about, through her cooking, was something she enjoyed.

Cole enjoyed being with all of them, eating dinner and talking. Like their own little family, away from their bigger family. Zane seemed to be in a good mood, smiling softly and emitting small laughter along with the sarcastic, witty jokes Garmadon kept telling. Cole loved the way Zane smiled. How it made his icy blue eyes twinkled in delight, in happiness. His laugh was so content and so himself. The way when he was laughing hard enough, he would close his eyes from his wide, happy smile as he did so. He was so cute in those ways. Zane was cute…

_"Wait, **what**?"_ Cole said to himself as he froze. His mind buzzed like an angry swarm of bees, agitated at the prodding thinker. It was a shock to find himself thinking like this, to catch himself in thoughts that he never thought he would think of.

And it was then that he noticed he had been thinking such thoughts, the same time of which his head cold had started.

A fork fell loudly onto a plate, making Zane jump in surprise. He looked over to find Cole, completely paralyzed, his mouth slack into a perfect, shocked "o".

"Cole? Are you okay?" Zane asked in concern. Cole slowly turned to Zane, his eyes wide with what seemed like fright. Cole stared into Zane's eyes, now understanding the allure of them and why they entranced so much. Those beautiful, concerned eyes looked back into his. Cole's gaze slightly moved downward, locking onto a feature of Zane's that made the leader's heart light, soft baby pink lips were opened slightly, the ninja's frosty exhale curling out of his mouth and around his lips with each breath.

_"Lean in, Lean in!"_ Cole's mind had been screaming, only hours ago.

Oh. _Oh._

This was no head cold.

Cute. He thought Zane was cute.

Cole shot out of his chair, making a disturbance among the things on the table.

"I have to excuse myself," Cole managed to get out, before running up the stairs, taking three steps at a time. He ran to their room, and locked himself inside the bathroom, instantly turning on the faucet to the coldest it could go. He splashed his face harshly with the cold water, but it did not help. The heat in his cheeks could not go away.

This was no head cold.

Blushing in every hug. Blushing when those beautiful icy eyes looked into his with concern. Losing track of time as he held Zane's hand. Having the best sleep he had had in years, a sleep rid of nightmares, sleeping with Zane the night before. Feeling as though he had to go with Zane to this monastery. Wanting to be there to take care of him and watch over him. Feeling happy that Zane needed him. Feeling flushed as he helped Zane out of his pants, his mind wandering… Wandering…

He shuddered. How could he? How could he go and ruin their friendship like this?

How could this have happened without him noticing?

This was no head cold.

Cole was falling in love with Zane Julien.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HA! Finally! Of course isn't a head cold, Cole. Seriously, have you ever even read a romance plot? Stupid earth ninja (just kidding, we love Cole).


	7. Lights Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The full effect of Dr. Julien's death on Zane comes to full fruition, Cole deals horribly with his new awareness of his feelings, and the antagonist makes a first appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! I haven't edited this chapter quite yet, so if there is any points you want to offer up, feel more than welcome to! I love hearing from you guys!

He was not happy when he woke up that morning. He wanted to keep sleeping, existing in a world that did not contain such problematic subjects such as crushing on a best friend that was going through depression.

Crushing… How could he not have noticed?

Yes, Cole had always suspected that he was attracted to both genders. He always found himself admiring good-looking people. But to have this attraction sneak up behind him and cause it to manifest in his best friend? This was cruelty beyond words.

He couldn’t resist his feelings though. He enjoyed every smile Zane had, every moment where he trusted Cole to take care of him; Cole couldn’t help himself for falling for Zane. He felt it was wrong to become wrapped up in the depressed man, when the last thing Zane needed was more turmoil and complications in his life.

“I’ll just ignore it,” Cole thought to himself, nodding as he stared up at the ceiling from the top bunk, “I’ll say it’s a stomach ache.”

“Good morning Cole,” a voice said from below. A voice he never realized affected him so much, until now.

His stomach flipped, a pink tinge seeping into his cheeks.

“Good morning Zane,” he said to the ceiling.

“Are you feeling better?” The ninja asked, referencing the night before. After Cole had ran off to the bathroom in the middle of dinner, Zane had tried to help Cole. However, Cole said he had a stomach bug, and dismissed Zane’s help.

Zane was not fooled however. He could tell Cole was not in the grasp of a virus. This became plainly evident when Cole then proceeded to make painfully fake gagging noises from behind the bathroom door, trying to convince Zane of his ill state.

Cole was a horrible liar. And when he took a pass on the chance to have dessert (something he would never do, even if he WAS actually sick), Zane knew something was very wrong with his leader.

“I’m fine. How are you feeling, Tin Can?” Cole asked Zane, as he sat up in bed.

“I have felt better in the past,” Zane admitted calmly. As Zane lay there, he noticed that his head hurt a little. Being an artificial being did not include having headaches. Whenever Zane had such a pain, he knew something was wrong with his mechanics. If only he still had his father around to fix him.

The white-haired ninja sighed and got out of bed, the other’s eyes following him as he made his way to the dresser.

Zane pulled out a random pair of pants and a random shirt. Normally, Zane was adamant about compiling together a good, matching outfit. He did not feel the motivation to do so now.

He took off his grey pajama shirt, and let it fall to the ground.

A sudden screeching sound, much akin to the sound of a prehistoric raptor, came from the top bunk of their bed. Zane turned around in confusion, not aware that his brother was an extinct reptile, to find him curled up in a ball, looking at the wall instead of Zane.

“Are you okay?” Zane asked, a slightly amused smile present on his face.

“Warn me next time before you decide to strip!” Cole yelled over the loud, pumping blood in his ears. His face was the hottest it had ever been, his mind playing over and over the scene he had just witnessed. Zane slowly taking off his shirt, his lean muscles and build moving with grace as he dropped his shirt to the ground… Cole shook his head, trying to remind himself he was supposed to be ignoring his feelings. But Zane was making it so difficult…

“You never seemed to have a problem with it before. We’ve known each other for over five years,” Zane said, turning back to his outfit and taking of the rest of his clothes before putting his fresh clothes on, “But I am sorry for making you feel uncomfortable.”

Cole was still blushing as he came out of his curled up position.

“It’s probably just my stomach, making me irritable or something,” Cole said, laughing nervously. Zane rolled his eyes to himself, hearing the evident lie in his leader’s voice. He didn’t possess enough energy to question Cole about what was really bothering him, however.

“I’m going to go eat breakfast,” Zane announced, “Will you be joining me?”

“Yeah, just give me a couple of minutes,” Cole said, descending down the bunk ladder. Zane nodded, and walked out of the room, heading downstairs while clad in an orange shirt (put on backwards) and dark violet sweatpants. An odd combination, especially for the normally well-dressed ninja.

Cole grabbed a comfortable pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, and carried them into the bathroom with him for a couple minutes of privacy.

_“You have to control yourself, Cole,”_ Cole muttered to himself, as he put on deodorant and the clean clothes. He was already failing at his task in ignoring his feelings. There was no doubt Zane suspected something was wrong, knowing he was a smart nindroid. But it was so hard to turn a blind eye…

_“Stay strong. You can do this. Zane needs you,”_ Cole said to himself, staring himself in the eyes as he combed his hair. He would not accept failure. He had to succeed. His best friend/crush needed him.

After feeling satisfied with his pep talk with himself, Cole continued on downstairs, feeling brave and confident. Zane, in the time Cole had been building himself confidence, had cooked pancakes for the two of them. As much as Zane respected and loved his brother, Cole’s cooking could may possibly inflict death onto himself. Zane therefore made pancakes for Cole too, so as to save his friend from such a fate.

“Oh, thanks Pinky!” Cole exclaimed, sitting down and diving into the stack of pancakes on his plate. Zane nodded silently, as he ate the small bites he had cut for himself.

It seemed as though Zane was having an off day. Cole had yet to see the ninja smile.

There was a couple moments of odd silence, before Cole decided to try and strike up a conversation.

“So, how did you sleep?” Cole asked Zane. He continued to eat, waiting for the man’s answer. However, it seemed as though he would not receive an answer. A couple of minutes had gone by, and Zane kept eating, as if he hadn’t heard Cole.

“Zane?” Cole asked again, beginning to feel worried, concern carved into every part of his expression.

For a couple of seconds, nothing happened. Cole was about to say his name again, when the ninja suddenly froze.

“Za-” Cole began.

Zane’s fork clattered to the ground, and his body slumped as if he had suddenly lost control of his body; as if he were shutting down.

Cole yelled in surprise, as Zane’s chair began to tip backward from the weight of the slumped man. He jumped out of his chair, and caught Zane before he could hit the floor.

“Zane? Zane?!” Cole yelled, his heart racing in reaction to Zane’s cold, dead stare. the icy blue in his eyes had disappeared, his eyes now a faint, dead grey.

It was as if he had lost all power.

“Garmadon! Misako! Anyone!” Cole cried out, grabbing hold of Zane with a powerful fear. Misako and Garmadon came running down the steps, still clad in their pajamas, with fright in their eyes. Cole could hear the pitter-patter of feet in the ceiling and other sections of the monastery, indicating the monks had also heard his plea for help.

Garmadon took one look into the dead eyes of Zane Julien, and immediately knew something was very wrong.

“Mi-Misako, call Wu!” Garmadon shouted, quickly kneeling down next to Cole and the lifeless nindroid. Misako didn’t need to be told twice as she dashed back up the stairs to retrieve her cell phone.

Cole’s eyesight was beginning to blur, as he stared into the grey eyes. Zane looked… Gone. It looked too much like his ninja of ice was dead; too much for Cole to handle. Garmadon, noticing Cole’s distress, quickly tried to comfort him.

“Cole… Cole, everything will be okay. Let’s get him out of the chair, oka- Cole, stay with me bud, Zane needs you. Misako is calling your Sensei right now. Zane will be okay. Help me out of his chair.” Garmadon said, trying to calm the leader, who had tears streaming down his cheeks as he hyperventilated.

Cole nodded through his tears and helped Garmadon as best he could, the ninja of strength and earth suddenly having weak and trembling hands.

Zane did not react to the moving. His head lolled every which way they moved him. His movements were loose. Too loose. As if he were some kind of rag doll.

Misako came dashing down the stairs, phone in hand, as three monks ran into the dining room.

“Cole, Sensei Wu would like to speak to you.” Misako said, handing the distraught man the phone. Cole took it hastily, staying at Zane’s side as Garmadon explained what he needed the monks to do.

“Cole, I have Cyrus Borg ready for departure on one of Jay’s jets. Is there anything more I can do to help? Anything I can send your way with Mr. Borg?” Sensei Wu asked, sounding the most serious he had ever sounded.

“Jay,” Cole ordered, “We need Jay. Tell him to bring all the blueprints and all the personal artifacts he has of Doctor Julien and his work. Bring anything he thinks he’ll need to use.”

“Jay is packing his things right now,” Sensei confirmed, “Hang in there. They’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

Cole thanked his sensei, and gave him back to Misako, who then began to describe what happened. Cole jumped off the ground as the monks and Garmadon picked up the rag doll ninja off the ground, and began to carry him up the stairs to his bed. Cole followed on their heels, not wanting to part from his teammate’s side for even a second.

“Come on, Zane. Don’t go dying on us…” Cole muttered, sitting down on the bed where the ninja was lying. Cole ran his hand through Zane’s white hair, wondering if this morning was to be the last time he saw life in the nindroid’s eyes.

_Please hurry, Jay. Please._

* * *

 

Twenty minutes, normally a short amount of time, felt like forever at the moment. Cole could not sit still, pacing back and forth, taking a glance at the dead eyes of Zane every now and then. He couldn’t stand looking at his dead friend for much longer, and was about to try and fix him on his own, when Cyrus Borg came wheeling in, Jay following right behind him.

Jay choked back a cry of fear, as his eyes fell onto his lifeless teammate.

“Oh my god…” Cyrus whispered, “Quick, pull out all of Zane’s blueprints that you have, set them around us.” Jay nodded quickly, following the inventor’s instructions.

“We’ll go into depth with healing Zane later. Right now, we have to focus on emergency protocol. Getting Zane a sustaining power source to live on as we figure out what’s wrong. Cole, help Jay locate an emergency power port. All inventors should install one, in case the main power source stops functioning.” Mr. Borg ordered. Cole nodded hastily, and dove to the ground, joining Jay as the two frantically searched through Zane’s blueprints. While they were doing this, Cyrus pulled a long wire out of the duffel bag that held all the blueprints and notes of Dr. Julien. He wheeled over to the nearest outlet, inserting the plug into it.

“I found it!” Jay exclaimed, grabbing one of the many blueprints, quickly scrambling off the ground to show Borg, “Right there! In the side of his neck!”

“Good job!” Mr. Borg replied, hastily wheeling over to Zane while holding the other end of the extension cord. Cole and Jay hovered over the inventor as he carefully opened a small hatch in the nindroid’s neck. The hatch revealed behind it several small, rectangular holes, like places to put a USB.

“It’s the blue one,” Jay instructed, “It leads straight to the core power source.”

Mr. Borg nodded, and carefully inserted the emergency power wire into the rectangular slot outlined in blue. They all held their breath, as they waited to see if they had been too late to save Zane. Jay looked over at his leader, who seemed to be visibly shaking in anxiety. The silence was unbearable. Cole could barely stand the suspense. His mind was already steeling itself up for the ultimate bad news Cole could ever hear.

There was a sudden, quiet whirring sound, indicating power was back on. All three of them sighed, as the icy blue color returned to the grey eyes.

“Zane,” Cole sighed in relief, his heart still beating fast from the suspense, and from the joy of Zane coming back to those of the living.

Zane opened his mouth as if to speak, but no sound came out. The man closed his mouth and frowned.

“The power from the outlet won’t be enough to make you fully operational,” Cyrus explained, “So things such as talking and walking around are not activities you can do. Until we figure out how to fix your main power source, or how it works for that matter, it will have to be like this.”

Zane nodded, understanding the situation, and looked up at the bed above his. He couldn’t move his head much, due to the wire sticking out of his neck. Cole grimaced, feeling bad for his ninja of ice, who was living on an insufficient power source that made him uncomfortable. Zane had gone through so much lately… It seemed as though the guy couldn’t catch a break.

“Let’s let Zane rest, and explain to the Garmadons and the monkeys about what’s going on,” Jay suggested.

“It’s ‘monks’, Jay,” Cole corrected, “And I’m going to stay up here with Zane. I don’t want to leave him alone.”

Jay and Cyrus nodded, leaving Cole alone with Zane. The white haired boy stared up into the green orbs. In any other situation, Cole would be horribly blushing, both of them staring into the other’s eyes as they were positioned on a conveniently comfortable bed. But for now, that was put on the back burner. Zane needed Cole’s support now more than ever.

“Let’s get some shut eye, Tin Can. Rest is the best possible thing for you right now.” He said, laying down next to his teammate, pulling up the blankets to cover the both of them.

Cole leaned over and gave Zane a soft kiss on the forehead, before lying back down and cuddling the ninja, encouraging him to go to sleep. The kiss was just a harmless gesture, of course. Just a comforting, reassuring gesture, indicating that everything was going to be okay. He was still ignoring his feelings. Right? No harm done.

Zane could not blush, due to the significant lower amount of energy he could use in his system. however, he was definitely feeling a sensation of floating happiness. The only thing he could think in his short-circuited mind was one word, and one word only, that kept repeating over and over:

_Cole._

* * *

 

The Cursed Realm was not a place of which Morro wanted to spend the rest of eternity in. He could be out there, proving his worth to the land of Ninjago. Proving that his Sensei was wrong. That he _could_ be the all-powerful green ninja, no matter what destiny wanted to tell him, no matter what Wu said otherwise.

As of right now, it was lunch time in the damned Cursed Realm. Spirit sandwiches with moldy cheese and liquid brown lettuce. What Morro would do to eat some real food again. He missed Ninjago with all of his heart.

As the teen sat down at his normal lunch table, he found that there was someone already sitting there. A dark purple figure, shrouded by some sort of darkness that Morro could not see around. He was obviously new to the realm of the damned.

“Hi,” Morro mumbled, in the least enthusiastic tone imaginable, “Welcome to the Cursed Realm. So glad you could join us.”

“I don’t care for that sarcastic tone, mortal,” The creature growled, most likely glaring at the boy with the green streak in his hair. Morro couldn’t tell however, due to the fact the creature was only a large blob of purple darkness with no telling if it actually possessed any peepers. Morro settled for glaring at the general area of which he assumed this creature’s eyes would be.

“Someone’s angry,” Morro snorted, taking a bite of his spirit sandwich. The creature growled again.

“Well of _course_ I’m angry, child. My plans were just defeated by a group of teenage ninja boys! And I was so close to taking over Ninjago too. I feel so ashamed to even be given such a cool as the Overlord,” the creature said.

Morro’s interest perked up at the words “ninja”, “Ninjago”, and “Overlord”. Sensei had always told stories about the ancient evil name the Overlord. Apparently it had been defeated, and rightfully so. However, the group of ninja? Morro had a bad feeling about this. One that sunk deep into the depths of his gut.

“A group of ninja you say? Did one of them happen to wearing… Green?” Morro asked, setting down the god-awful sandwich on his plate, wanting to hear the response.

“Yes!” The Overlord boomed, “That’s the one that destroyed me!”

An intense feeling of sickness entered Morro’s stomach, as the worst of news hit.

_“No! NO, I was supposed to be the green ninja! Not someone else! NO!”_ Morro’s mind screamed. This cry of agony kept rolling over and over, getting louder and louder, until Morro was screaming it at the top of his lungs. The guards quickly took hold of Morro, and dragged the screaming, kicking teen back to his cell/room.

However, the guards did not help any of the loud sounds coming from the teen. In fact, they were so loud that a certain, wise old Sensei could hear them in meditation, many realms away. The old man’s eyes shot open, as he heard the voice of someone he had known to be dead for quite some time.

_“I’ll kill the green ninja, and that fool of a Sensei for EVER thinking he could fool me!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MORRO YASSSSSS I love Morro so much. He's gonna be the best f*cking antagonist ever yes yes yes
> 
> I also love their little "I'm more evil and sarcastic" discussion at the end XD I can't control any of them, my pencil is only the medium XD


	8. Dreams, Jealousy, and Crushes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first day of Zane's predicament, full to the brim with conflicting thoughts and strong feelings that neither Cole nor Zane know how to deal with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of the comments and kudos, everyone!! You guys make my day with your feedback, and you get me closer to writing another chapter with every comment you guys send my way. Since I haven't updated in a bit, I decided to make this chapter a little bit longer than normal ;) Enjoy!

Zane woke up in his leader’s arms, for the second time in the past couple of days. It was definitely a new occurrence, falling asleep to Cole’s rhythmic breathing at his side.

He wasn’t necessarily complaining. Zane was always one for a good cuddle, and Cole was the best cuddler a man could ask for. The act of sleeping with Cole, however, was doing things to his brain that he did not understand. First off, Zane never had realized how warm his leader was, how rough his dark hands were. Only after the sleep they shared did Zane become aware of the alluring, sweet chocolate scent that the man seemed to posses. A smell Zane greatly enjoyed, all though he did not understand why.

As his weakened system slowly awakened with the limited energy he had, he realized the first unsettling fact of that morning; it was seven thirty. Not only had they napped the whole day (something Zane could never physically do), but he was also waking up at a time other than the one he was programmed to awake at. The first time in his life to wake up at a time other than six o'clock.

However, this concern was petty compared to the other unsettling fact he had awaken to. For one, he and Cole seemed to be in a relatively compromising position. A comfortable position, no argument there. A position Jay and Nya had fell asleep in once, that sent Kai into quite an unreasonable fit. The red ninja had called it something like “spooning”.

Honestly, Zane would have been fine with lying like that for hours, if it hadn't been for the rough hand that had snaked itself down to his hip. His mismatched orange shirt had been pushed up slightly in their sleep, revealing his pale and cold skin. The skin on skin certainly sent odd chills up his spine. What made his face feel hot, however, was where Cole’s hand was. Somehow, in the depths of his leader’s sleep, Cole had managed to get hold of the elastic waistband of his bottoms. Cole’s fingers were mindlessly playing with the elasticity. The long, teasing appendages lightly pulled at the elastic band, letting it go with a small snap against Zane’s hip, eliciting a small squeak to emit from the nindroid.

Normally, Cole’s accidental ministrations wouldn’t effect Zane. He would simply wake Cole, or carefully pry Cole’s fingers from his waistband. For some reason Zane did not know, he could not do such things. The raw contact and teasing fingers froze him into a mess of confusion. Feelings flew around in his head with a wild abandon, a mixture that seemed too complicated for him to process. He could feel embarrassment, fear, alarm, confusion, and… A new feeling. One of which he had never experienced before.

It felt as if his insides were somersaulting, creating a feeling of excitement. A slight hint of joy, possibly? It felt as though cold chills were running down his spine. Quite enjoyable chills at that. He could only guess at to what new emotion this was: Pleasure.

Cole snapped the elastic band again, making Zane squeak once more in surprise.

The bunk bed above them creaked, causing Zane to furrow his brow for a moment. As far as he knew, no one had been sleeping in Cole’s bed.

Jay’s head suddenly popped into view, a wave of gratefulness rushing through Zane as his cries of help were heard. However, Zane didn’t really want Cole to stop… He blinked a couple of times, erasing such an odd desire from his thoughts. Something was very odd with him.

“Are you okay?” Jay asked in a hushed whisper, looking down at his teammate.

Zane shook his head in a solid “no” as violently as he could, without upsetting the wire that was sticking out of his neck. Jay gave him a look of concern, wondering what was wrong with the nindroid.

However, he didn’t have to wonder for very long. Cole snapped the elastic band once more, Zane jumping in surprise where he lay. Jay’s eyes traveled, following Cole’s arm, finally seeing what was causing Zane’s discomfort.

The azure ninja couldn’t help himself as he started to laugh loudly, finding his friend’s predicament humorous.

“Shhhhhh!” Zane hissed furiously, afraid Jay’s hearty laughter would awaken Cole. Zane may not have been able to talk, but he could still shush the ninja of motor mouths.

The shushing did not quiet Jay’s contagious laughter, unfortunately. Zane sighed as Cole’s warm arm and long fingers disappeared quickly, the leader waking up in a sudden jerk of surprise.

“W-What’s going on? Did I… Miss something?” Cole managed, before yawning and stretching in his sleepy state. The only response he received was from the wheezing laughter of Jay, who was desperately gasping for air.

As Cole slowly awoke, he realized he was in the monastery, and had been sleeping with Zane Julien, whose back was still facing him.

Cole’s face turned a bright crimson red, as he recalled the dream he had been in the middle of experiencing before awakening. His dream was in a different location, but Zane and the bed… Now that was the same.

His mind screamed in horror as he sat up quickly. Mortification seemed to coat every part of his expression. Zane seemed as though he could not make eye contact with him… Jay’s laughter scared Cole to the bone. Oh god, did he say something?! What sounds had emitted from his throat in the heat of his dream? Oh god… Did he physically do anything?!

Cole threw off the covers and clumsily stumbled out of the bed as quickly as he could, running to his dresser to get an outfit for the day.

“I’mgonnatakeashower!” Cole exclaimed rapidly, dashing into the bathroom, his red face disappearing behind the bathroom door as he slammed it. He could still hear Jay’s taunting laughter back in the room, as Cole turned on the rushing shower water, in an attempt to calm himself.

For Cole, the bathroom was a safe haven, where he could collect himself. The warm water on his back always calmed him, and the mirror was always there to gladly help him boost his confidence. The bathroom was also the place where one could take a satisfying dump, without the self-consciousness that came with public bathrooms. Bathrooms were simply heaven in it’s most beautiful form.

Zane was still internally blushing, the ghost of Cole’s hand still teasing at his emotions, toying with them in such a sly and confident way.

He was so absorbed in what he was feeling, that he did not notice Jay finally reign control on his fit of laughter, or that his teammate had descended down the ladder, now examining the vitals that were displayed in a small hatch on his forearm.

“Looking good. Your systems are warning me of low power level, but we already knew that,” Jay said, bringing Zane back to the present.

Zane nodded a little, a small grimace on his face in distaste.

“I know buddy. It sucks, We’ll get you up and talking in no time,” Jay reassured his friend as he locked the hatch back in place, “Do you know at all why you malfunctioned? Or how your core power works for that matter?”

Zane shook his head at both questions, not knowing the answers to any of them. Jay frowned slightly, seeing as how difficult figuring out Zane’s problem would be.

“Everything will be oka-” Jay began, before they were both surprised by loud, off-pitch singing emitting from the shower.

“-First century ninja! I’M THE TWENTY FIRST CENTURY! HEY-OH, OH-OH! I got the elemental power for the future! BUT I WAS STUCK IN THE TWENTY FIRST CENT-” Cole sang at the top of his lungs in the shower, causing Zane to frantically cover his ears.

“Hey, twenty first century idiot! Shut up!” Jay yelled back at Cole, who stopped singing instantly, barking in a hearty laugh.

Zane chuckled, enjoying the antics of Jay and Cole. Jay looked down at the ninja, and gave him an odd smile, as if he knew something the nindroid did not.

Jay found it hard to believe that the first laugh of Zane’s that he had heard, and the fact that it had been because of Cole, was a coincidence.

Now that Jay thought about it, he could recall seeing a glint of something in Zane’s eyes, contrary to his squeaks of help. A glint of something that conveyed… Contentedness?

Jay furrowed his brows to himself as he walked over to the balcony, and opened it’s double sliding doors. Could Zane… No, he couldn’t possibly be crushing on Cole. Zane never displayed romantic feelings, especially not towards his fellow teammates. Jay probably had just been seeing things. There was no way there had been such a glint of desire in his friend’s eyes.

The water in the shower shut off, signaling the end of Cole’s shower. Their leader started singing again as he dried himself off. However, he sung in a quieter tone, so as not to disturb Zane and Jay.

There was a knock on the door, and Jay rushed over to open the door, seeing as Zane couldn’t get up. Misako was revealed as Jay opened the bedroom door, holding a bowl of something hot and steaming.

“I heard you boys were up and around. Breakfast is ready for you and Cole, but since Zane can’t move from his bed, I brought him up some soup.” Misako said, showing Jay the noodle soup. Jay nodded, taking the warm bowl from the kind woman.

“Thanks Misako. I’ll let Cole know breakfast is ready.” Jay replied, giving the woman a kind smile. She poked her head in through the doorway, looking at the bedridden nindroid.

“Hopefully, my special recipe chicken noodle soup makes you feel better. Lloyd always swears to me it has healing powers.” Misako said, giving the white-haired teen a caring smile and a joking wink. He nodded slightly, returning her sweet smile before she shut the door behind her.

“It sure does smell good,” Jay commented, smelling the soup as he carried it over to the man laying in bed. For some, strange reason, it smelled exactly like his mom’s homemade black bean soup. His mouth watered, wanting to be eating his mother’s cooking at that moment.

Suddenly, the smell changed, It went from his mother’s cooking, to the smell of a familiar tortellini soup. Jay immediately recognized the tortellini-smelling goodness as Nya’s cooking, something he had always enjoyed immensely.

Jay could have been wrong, but he was sure normal soup didn’t completely change it’s mouth watering smell to another equally appetizing smell. Lloyd was definitely onto something, saying his mother’s soup had healing powers.

“Do you have enough wire to sit up?” Jay asked Zane as he set the soup down on top of a dresser, making sure to situate Zane first before giving it to him, so he could eat his soup comfortably.

Zane shrugged his shoulders, not knowing how much wire was at his dispense. He tried to strain his neck, looking for the outlet to see the wire situation. However, he could not get a good view, and relaxed his neck once more, letting his head fall back onto the pillow.

“Here, why don’t I hold the wire in place while you try and see if you can sit up. That way it won’t fall out. How does that sound?” Jay suggested. Zane nodded in agreement, watching his brother as he walked over to help him.

Carefully, Jay held the wire in place, holding Zane’s neck gingerly, making sure the cord did not slip out of the USB port in his neck.

“Alright Zane. I’m ready whenever you are.” Jay announced. Very slowly, Zane sat up in bed, using all of the strength he could to sit up in bed. Seeing as how he had to use a decent amount of energy to even so much as lift one arm, sitting up used all of the energy he possessed.

Eventually, Zane was fully upright, his back leaning up against the headboard of the bottom bunk for support. Jay was setting up a tiny, foldable table in Zane’s lap when Cole came out of the bathroom.

Zane couldn’t help but take note of the tight, dark navy blue jeans the man was wearing, the way they hugged his form so perfectly… He quickly blinked. What had gotten into him? He was noticing details about Cole that he had never cared about before. Yes, he had always known Cole had a toned, muscular body. He had always known that Cole was considered to be good looking, that his emerald eyes were vibrant and captivating. But now, all this meant more that just facts to him. Now, it was alluring. As if he couldn’t keep his eyes off of the attractive man, whose wet black hair was swept across his face.

What was this new attention to detail? Was this what humans called… Attraction? Zane couldn’t get a handle on what was going on with him. He had never felt something like attraction before. It wasn’t anywhere in his data base, nor was it supposed to be there. Attraction of the sexual kind was not something of which he ever thought would happen to him. Sure, he could have a family love towards anyone. To be attracted to someone in another way, however, was simply preposterous. There was no way this was happening to him, especially with his brother, his leader. It was simply his short-circuited brain, acting hazy and sporadically. He couldn’t actually be feeling these things.

However, when he looked into Cole’s emerald eyes, he felt fluttering butterflies at the pit of his gut. These weren’t the actual insects, either. Zane’s cheeks felt hot, as Cole looked back into his icy blue eyes with an intense concern.

“Why is Pinky sitting up? Is he alright?” Cole questioned, watching as Jay grabbed the still steaming bowl off the dresser, placing it on Zane’s lap table.

“Yeah, he’s fine. Just eating his breakfast.” Jay said, setting a spoon in the bowl for the nindroid. However, all Zane could do was frown and stare down at his meal. It seemed as though, in the act of sitting up, he had used all of his energy and could no longer lift his arms.

“Can you eat?” Cole asked Zane, sitting down on the edge of Zane’s bed. Zane responded in a troubling shake of his head, not enjoying the sensation of being completely useless. Jay grimaced, feeling bad for their fellow teammate.

“Cole, I can help Zane eat. Breakfast is ready downstairs, if you want to-” Jay was saying, when he was suddenly interrupted by their leader.

A monster had risen from the pits of Cole’s gut, roaring in displeasure. He wanted to take care of Zane. He wanted to be there for Zane through anything. It was his job to take care of Zane, not Jay’s. He tried to calm the inner rage monster, not wanting to be obvious when it came to the boy he had been so enthralled with in the last few days. Probably longer than simply two days. Cole suspected he’d been falling for the man much longer than a simple two days.

“You go and eat breakfast. I’ll take care of Zane.” Cole said, patting Zane’s leg. Jay gave his leader an odd look, not accustomed to him passing up an opportunity to eat food. However, Zane WAS Cole’s responsibility, seeing as he was the leader of them all, so he simply brushed it off, thinking nothing more of it.

Cole watched Jay as he walked out of the bedroom, leaving the door open behind him. As Zane watched Jay leave the room as well, he got a sudden, strong whiff of the heavenly-looking soup.

The first thought that came to mind was his father’s miso ramen soup. Dr. Julien had always made the best miso ramen soup. He was always able to bring out the best flavours in that soup, creating a balance of herbs and ingredients that made one’s taste buds sing in happiness.

Zane felt tears welling up in his eyes, as he realized yet another thing that he would never get to experience again, now that his father was gone.

His pressing tears suddenly vanished, however, when he got a second whiff of the soup’s smell. For some odd reason, the smell had drastically changed, something normal soups did not not have the ability to do.

Zane didn’t complain, however. The second smell was just as good as the first. It was a rich, creamy smell, that made the nindroid’s mouth water. He could almost taste the tantalizing broth, the dark tang of the violet berry soup. He could almost eat the tender bay scallops that had been so well prepared in the meal.

He immediately knew whose soup he was smelling. It was Cole’s violet berry soup. That had been the first time Zane was introduced to such a delectable meal. It had also been the first time Cole’s cooking was a success; something they could all actually eat. Zane had always found it humorous that the one meal Cole nailed happened to be the one meal that some of Ninjago’s best chefs could not perfect. It displayed Cole’s “go big or go home” mentality perfectly.

Zane didn’t notice he was smiling to himself, until Cole looked back at him and smiled right back, those emerald eyes twinkling as his smile reached them.

“There’s a smile,” Cole said, swiveling to face him, “Everything is going to get better.”

Zane nodded, his smile slightly fading away. He didn’t really agree with his leader. Things honestly seemed as if they couldn’t get any worse. Too much wrong was going on to make anything feel right. There was too much sadness to be happy.

“Alright, let’s get some food in you, shall we?” Cole said, scooting closer up to Zane, until he was sitting right in front of him, picking up the spoon to feed him.

Zane watched curiously as Cole got a spoonful of the noodle soup. The man looked up at him, a tiny tinge of pink peppering his cheeks as he looked into those icy blue eyes. Zane opened his mouth eagerly, and taking a nervous breath, Cole carefully put the spoon full of soup in Zane’s mouth.

Those baby-pink lips softly closed around the utensil. Cole watched as his eyes fluttered close, in obvious bliss at the taste of Misako’s soup. A low, content groan sounded from the back of the nindroid’s throat, the sound causing Cole to blush in a deeper red than before. That groan sparked specific memories, memories of a dream he had just had the night before, as he slept with Zane in his arms. A dream of love, whispers, kisses and blankets…

Cole’s mind screamed at him, as he felt his heart pump rapidly in the thought of such things. Such things he knew were never going to happen, regardless how much he dreamt about it.

But those smiles made him so happy. He would have such urges to lean in and peck Zane on the cheeks. Cole would find himself losing all sense of what was going on around them, as he became lost in those pools of icy blue. He couldn’t imagine holding anyone else in his arms.

Zane watched in mild curiosity, as Cole stared past his head, looking at the space behind him. The man still had the spoon in Zane’s mouth, even though he had clearly finished the spoonful. If the nindroid didn’t know any better, he would have said Cole was doing a horrible job at feeding him.

Trying to politely bring Cole back to the present, he cleared his throat quietly. Cole immediately looked at Zane, his eyes widening slightly as he realized his neglect to the person he was thinking about.

“Oh, sorry Zane,” Cole said quickly, pulling the spoon out of Zane’s mouth. He simply shrugged in response, accepting the distant man’s apology.

Cole silently fed Zane for a few moments, finding peace in taking care of his team member. The poor boy still had that uncomfortable wire sticking out of his neck, inhibiting the majority of his moves. The horrible thing was, they had no idea how to fix Zane. The situation would have been different, if they had any inkling of how to solve the problem. They, as in Jay and Cyrus Borg, had spent their hours late into the night fishing through Zane’s blueprints. They read every single note in Dr. Julien’s hurried handwriting, traced every single wire and cog to their functions, marked every screw and bolt they could find. They had found nothing to indicate the cause of Zane’s sudden loss of power. They had no leads to go off of, still completely in the dark as to how they were going to heal their fellow nindroid.

Cole, more times than not, would start to panic, worrying there was not a cure for Zane. That they wouldn’t be able to help him. He would brush those horrible thoughts away, as fast as he could, trying not to let them infect his mind. But with every minute that passed by, in which they didn’t know how to help Zane, the more doubtful Cole became.

He had to stay strong for Zane. He had to be the one the nindroid could lean on, the one he could count on to stay by his side, when all the rest of the world felt as though it was crashing down around them.

The clink of the silver spoon in the empty bowl surprised him, bringing him back from his aimless thinking. The soup was gone, Cole having fed it all to him.

Zane raised his eyebrow at Cole, cocking his head slightly to the side as he did so. His leader was acting very oddly. Distant and unresponsive. Maybe it was about what Cole had dreamt about, while sleeping with him. Zane knew Cole talked and moved in his sleep sometimes. He had learned this from years of them all sleeping in the same room. Those teasing fingers hadn’t just been playing with his pajama bottoms for no reason. The black haired boy had been dreaming of someone with him.

There was a sudden, nasty pang in Zane’s chest, and for a second Zane was scared that he was shutting down once more. The pang felt close to anger, maybe even frustration, with a pinch of gut-wrenching sadness. A feeling he wasn’t used to, but a feeling none the less.

For some reason, he did not like the thought of Cole dreaming of someone else. Yes, Zane knew this was an odd feeling to have. Zane had always been aware when Cole was dating someone new. He sometimes even went out of his way to introduce himself to said girls. Never did he feel jealous of them, like he did now. Something very odd was going on in Zane’s emotions. It could have been his new sensitivity to emotions, and his emotional instability. Whatever it was, he did not enjoy it nor understand it.

Ignoring the pang in his chest, he attempted to give his leader a small smile. Cole grimaced slightly, setting the spoon in the bowl and looking down at his hands.

“I’m sorry about this morning, Zane. Whatever I said or did, I didn’t mean to, and I feel bad.” Cole apologized, looking up from his hands to peek up at the nindroid.

Zane smiled and shook his head, dismissing Cole’s worry. Cole was only human, he couldn’t control who he dreamt about at night. There was no reason to apologize.

“Did I… Say something?” Cole whispered, concern gracing his face, pulling his bushy eyebrows down.

He shook his head once more, trying to ignore yet another stabbing pang of jealousy.

Cole could not see the conflict in the icy blue eyes, however, and sighed in relief. If Zane had heard what was being said in that enjoyable dream of his, all covers would be blown. Zane would never be able to look at him again, that much he knew.

“Did I… Do something?” The green-eyed man asked. His stomach immediately dropped as Zane broke eye contact, looking away.

“What did I do…” Muttered Cole, looking down at his hands. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself, if he had done something compromising. What if he had kissed Zane in his sleep? God forbid touching the teen in places a friend should not. If he was to ever have a first kiss with Zane, he certainly didn’t want a dream-induced one to be their first. That was not how he wanted anything between them to go, if there was to ever be anything in between them.

Zane shook his head once again, dismissing worry. Honestly, he no longer wanted to talk about Cole’s dream, much less what Cole had done while in the heat of a dream with someone else.

Cole frowned slightly, but let the subject go. He got up off the bed, taking the empty bowl and bed tray off with him. Zane watched him as he folded the table and stuffed it under the bed for later use. As Cole started to get back off the ground, he looked away, not wanting to be caught staring at him. Or be caught in the fact that his eyes had stayed glued to Cole, observing his body with a gaze that even bothered himself.

“I’m going to go eat breakfast,” Cole said, holding the empty bowl in his hands, “Will you be alright?”

Zane gave Cole a reassuring nod, urging him to go eat. Cole gave the man an awkward nod back, more akin to a head jerk, and stalked out of the room.

There was an air of tension between the two of them, and he cursed himself for ever having that dreaded dream. Leave it up to his subconscious to mess up their comfortable relationship.

He carried the empty bowl downstairs with him, passing by the dining table. Jay, Mr. Borg, and Misako seemed to be in the process of finishing their breakfast, passing small talk between each other. Cole took a mild note, as he realized that Garmadon was not eating with them. Misako broke out of the conversation, standing up when she saw the ninja leader coming down the stairs.

“Good morning, Cole darling,” Misako said softly, bringing Cole into a gentle hug. He smiled as he hugged her back, bowl still in hand, “Did he like it?” She asked, releasing him from the hug and gesturing towards the bowl.

“Yeah, he loved it.” Cole said smiling. He tried to proceed towards the kitchen, but Misako stopped him.

“I can take care of that,” The woman said, taking the empty bowl from his hands, “Sit down and enjoy some breakfast.”

Cole thanked her and did as she said, sitting down at the table as she disappeared into the kitchen. He picked a hard-boiled egg out of the spread on the table, and began peeling it, the pieces of shell falling to the plate.

“How is the boy doing?” Cyrus Borg asked Cole, positioned across from him at the table.

“He’s doing alright. Still can’t talk or move a lot.” Cole said, successfully peeling off the last piece of shell.

“Which is expected, seeing how he is being sustained on a lesser power source. We have to find the fix soon. I plan on pulling another all-nighter tonight.” Cyrus said as Cole ate his egg.

“I can hewlp fu.” Cole tried to say through a mouth full of food. Cyrus gave the man a funny look, but agreed to his help none the less.

Breakfast was quickly finished, and the small talk migrated to the kitchen, the two adults leaving the two men alone at the dining table. Cole looked over at Jay, a question heavy on his tongue. However, Jay beat him to it.

“Do you know what you were doing to Zane? Did he tell you?” Jay questioned, looking at his leader. To his surprise, the man started to blush, and quickly looked down at his plate in an attempt to hide it.

“Was it bad?” Cole muttered to his plate, grimacing slightly. He was almost afraid to hear what Jay would say.

“It wasn’t too bad… But for Zane, someone who probably has never even heard of dating… Well, he definitely seemed bothered.” Jay said, smirking in the remembrance of Zane’s mortified face. Cole put his head in his hands, trying to hide in horror.

“What was I do-” He began, before Jay interrupted him.

“You were playing with the waistband on his bottoms. Again, nothing that bad,” Jay said, trying to comfort Cole as he groaned in humiliation, “Anyways, Zane doesn't feel that way towards people, so you really have nothing to worry about. He’s our friend, it’s not like you scared away a date or something.”

For a few seconds, Cole wanted to correct Jay Walker. He had, for one, freaked Zane out, bringing about a tension they were better without. Secondly, it was exactly like that. He had scared away a date. The only date he had his eyes set on. The only date he would ever enjoy again, that much he knew. He wouldn’t be able to be with anyone else without thinking of Zane, the way he made him smile…

Cole was brought back to the present as Jay clapped him on the back. The brown haired boy then leaned down towards Cole, his hand still resting on the man’s back.

“If I didn’t know any better,” Jay whispered, a smirk laced into his voice, dripping with enjoyment, “It looked like Zane was _enjoying_ it.”

Jay walked away with a grin on his face as he walked away from Cole, heading upstairs, most likely going to check on the nindroid in the bottom bunk.

“W-Wait, what?! W-What does that mean! Wait up Jay!” Cole stuttered, jumping out of his chair and running after Jay, taking two steps at a time, determined to hear what Jay meant. Had he been hinting that Zane liked such things as Cole…? He had to know.

He was running down the hall when he heard a throat clear from a room to the left. Cole stopped running, turning his attention to the person asking for his attention.

Garmadon was standing in the doorway, storm grey eyes clashing with emerald greens. The old man wore a purple and grey kimono, a new outfit Cole had never seen him wear before. The man’s hair was in a grey disarray, as if he could not tame it; Just like his son’s blonde hair.

“Cole, could I speak with you for a second or two?” Garmadon asked quietly, folding his arms behind his back. Cole was a little skeptical of the man. However, his Sensei trusted him, and so he knew it was wise to follow in his teacher’s footsteps.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Cole said, nodding slightly. Garmadon smiled slightly, and walked farther into the room, a signal for Cole to follow him. The black haired teen did just that, following the man with a slight limp into the room.

The room was much like the one that Zane and him shared together. Except, instead of bunk beds, there was singular bed, large enough to hold two people if need be. The bed was not made, the blankets stuffed at the end of the bed in a large heep. Cole laughed internally slightly, seeing this as matching their characters perfectly. He never pegged Garmadon, or Misako for that matter, to be people who felt the need to make their bed neat.

The balcony sliding doors were wide open, allowing a nice breeze of a beautiful summer day float by. Garmadon walked out onto the balcony, and breathed in the fresh air, closing his eyes for a couple of seconds in contentment.

He looked back at Cole, who was standing behind, still in the room, cautious as to whether he should join the man.

“Come. Join me.” Garmadon beckoned with a smile, turning back to the beautiful view and resting his arms on the balcony railing. Cole walked out onto the balcony, standing next to the old man, refusing to look at the ex-evil lord.

The day was a beautiful day, full of the sun’s rays and the birds’ laughter. The two stood there silently, enjoying the nature before them in peace. It was only a few minutes of this, before the old man finally talked.

“I am… Sorry, Cole, for what I have done… I know the pain that I brought on your colleagues, I know all the pain that I have brought on you… I plan to apologize to each and every one of you… But know I am so very sorry for everything I have done. There will never be a time where saying sorry will been enough. I hope, though, that you may take my apology into consideration? You stood up against me, and you trained my son to become the amazing man that he is today… I couldn’t be more honored to get to know you and your teammates more…” Garmadon said. He was staring down at his hands as he said this, his old frail hands seeming to shake slightly as he said these things. He could tell Garmadon was slightly nervous in saying such things, when he could be easily rejected.

Cole blinked a couple of times in surprise, taking in the words he was hearing. Garmadon, apologizing for everything he had done? Never would Cole have thought this day would come to pass. The man was right, there would never be enough apologies to make up for what he did to the world of Ninjago. No amount of apologies could make up for the amount of deaths this man caused.

Garmadon took a peak up to look at Cole, to see the leader of ninja staring off into the woods before them, a pensive look on his face.

“I… appreciate your apology, Garmad-” Cole began, before Garmadon interrupted him.

“Sensei, please… Sensei Garmadon.” Sensei Garmadon requested, wincing and grimacing as he heard his informal title on Cole’s lips, like an old reminder of the person he no longer wanted to be.

“Sensei Garmadon,” Cole said, giving the old man an acknowledging nod, “But as you know, it will be hard for these wounds to heal. We have all been through a lot over these past years, and there are many wounds that have yet to even begin to heal. But Sensei,” Cole said, the word sounding odd on his tongue as he called someone he used to hate, such a highly respectable title, “For now, I accept your apology.”

Sensei Garmadon nodded, a small smile on his face at Cole’s response. Cole began to walk away, leaving Sensei Garmadon on the balcony, when Garmadon called to the black haired teen once more.

“Cole? I’m not done with you yet.” Garmadon said, smiling slightly.

“Sir?” Cole asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Garmadon beckoned Cole to him with a hand wave, and Cole once more joined the old man on the balcony.

“There is a conflict in your eyes… You have been working day and night with Zane, and it takes a lot of work to help heal a hurting person. But I have a feeling there’s something more to it than that.” Garmadon pointed out. Cole’s eye twitched. Garmadon couldn’t be closer to the truth.

“Garma... I mean, Sensei, I-” Cole began, before he was interrupted.

“I know I have no place in saying anything, and I am most likely stepping over boundaries at this moment, but I can see it in your eyes; it is a conflict of the heart. I know, from years and years of youth, that you must follow your heart.” Sensei Garmadon said.

“But I-” Cole tried again, before he was interrupted once again.

“No. No matter what it is, you must follow your heart. Even if you feel it’s wrong. Follow it. If your heart feels it, then it is not wrong. So many opportunities were lost in my youth because I decided to ignore my heart, thinking it was wrong. Follow your heart, Cole.” Sensei Garmadon finished, smiling up at the leader of the ninja. Cole gave him a smile back, and bowed.

“Thank you Sensei. Am I…?” Cole asked, straightening up out of his bow.

“Yes,” Garmadon replied with a warm chuckle, “You may go.”

Cole smiled, and left the Garmadon room, heading back to Zane and his room. He appreciated the old man’s advice, he did. But it was easier said than done, Garmadon’s advice was.

Especially when it came to falling head over heels for his best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why do I love insightful Garmadon so much? Agh he kills me in the heart. And Zane's feeling things?!? Oooooh man. ;p  
> Also, credit to the Fold for their song "Twenty-First Century Ninja". I love them :D


	9. Earthquake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Research late into the night reveals the true problem of Zane's condition, and an earthquake rocks the ground underneath them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY angst!! And puzzle pieces fitting together! And more angst! And then some fluff! (aka: this chapter is a roller coaster. You have been warned)

Cole could feel his eyes dropping as sleep threatened to take over. It sounded so tempting, to leave the lamp-lit room, covered in papers of all sorts, and stumble into bed with Zane.

He was now rethinking his decision to pull an all-nighter with Jay and Cyrus. He had clearly overestimated his ability to stay awake late into the night, and was beginning to question if he was being at all a help to his friends, being in such a tired state as he was.

Cole tried to focus on the leather-back journal he was supposed to be reading, shifting in the uncomfortable wooden desk chair he was sitting in. The lamp on the wooden desk was the only light that lit the study room the monks had given them to work in.

To his stinging, tired eyes, the glare of the bright light was almost painful, making it almost close to impossible to be able to read the pages of Dr. Julien’s messy scrawl.  
The black haired man had been assigned the more boring task (according to him) of having to read the journal, in hopes of finding answers.

Most of Dr. Julien’s entries were about simple, day to day things. Sometimes, he would document seeing a new person at the grocery store, someone he had never seen shop at that store before. But other than such a rare change as this, the man’s life seemed a little redundant and uneventful. It seemed to pick up some, when the man decided to detach himself from society and live in a tree. However, that was as interesting as the journal entries got.

Cole’s eyes strayed from the journal once more, his eyes drifting off to the walls. Cyrus had pinned all the blueprints he had been assigned to the room’s walls, and stared at each one with a quizzical look, wheeling back and forth in front of the wall. It wasn’t anything new, the blueprints he was analyzing. They had all gone over them millions of times before, hoping each time they would find some new note or hint written from Dr. Julien on the blue papers. They had yet to find any such thing.  
His gaze then fell to Jay, who was parked on the ground, his blueprints surrounding him on the floor in a circle around him. The man looked deeply pensive, his wide open eyes indicating the grasp of tiredness was not an issue of his. Granted, the brown haired, brown eyed ninja had already had four cups of coffee, but his power to stay awake still amazed Cole nonetheless.

His green eyes fluttered close, his body slightly slumping as he slowly gave into sleep. Cole was never one to fight off sleep, no matter how hard he tried.

“Hey!” Jay snapped, catching Cole’s tired slump. He immediately sat straight up, alarmed by Jay’s sudden bark, “Don’t you dare fall asleep, Cole. This is important, remember? Zane’s life depends on us.”

Cole tried to give him his most assertive, convincing head nod, trying to pretend he was awake. Jay rolled his eyes and sighed, but went back to to the blueprints around him, not having time to lecture his leader.

It was so hard to stay awake when Dr. Julien was so boring. All the inventor talked about was his loneliness, how he felt so isolated. Cole felt bad for the guy, he really did. But he couldn’t help in thinking the man brought it on himself, starting with the decision of running away and living in a tree, isolating himself from all human life. With a painful amount of effort, he turned the slightly yellowing pages, greeted with more untidy scrawl and more self pity.

Cole felt himself drifting off again, when he was saved by Cyrus’s sudden voice.

“There had to be a reason Julien shut off Zane’s memory the first time he died.” The man in the wheelchair said, furrowing his brow as he observed the blueprints on the wall in front of him. Jay looked up from the floor, a slight light in his eyes.

“Maybe he knew grief would cause Zane to malfunction?” Jay said, sounding somewhat hopeful for a possible revelation.

Cole frowned slightly, “Couldn’t he just have not wanted Zane to feel grief? That sounds kind of like a stretch.”

Cyrus Borg shrugged his shoulders at Cole’s comment, “I think Jay could be right. Dr. Julien was an inventor, and we inventors do everything for a reason. He must have known there was a negative effect if Zane were to experience grief or depression. That would explain why Julien turned off the memories the first time, why Zane seems to be having a reaction uncharted in Julien’s notes; He hadn’t risked testing it out to see what would happen.”

Both of the boy’s eyes widened in horror.

“So Zane is going through something even his creator was weary about? What are we supposed to do if even if the man who created him doesn’t know what to do?” Cole said, a slight frustration flowing through his veins.

Jay looked at Cole with an air of urgency, “I’m becoming more and more certain our answer is in one of those journals. Keep reading Cole.”

Cole nodded and turned back to the journal, staring at the pages more intently.

He was upset, a burning feeling of anger boiling in the bottom of his stomach. Zane was going through so much, had been forced through so much pain and suffering. And for his creator to not have even known how to fix Zane in the state he was now, much less had an idea for what would happen; it made Cole feel hopeless. Lost and losing, feeling as though they would never be able to fix Zane again. He doubted there was anything in the journal that would help. Even in his doubt, he started flipping through the pages faster, wanting desperately to find the answer to their problem.

As he did this urgent page turning, his mind decided to wander, back to the memories he had of Zane. Back in the first few days they had met, Cole and Jay had no idea how to interact with the odd boy. Granted, they didn’t know Zane was a robot back then, and therefore it was harder to understand the smart boy. But he had quickly become a part of their growing family, fitting in with all of the misfits that they were.

The first time Cole really ever remembered taking a liking to Zane was way back when they were all still trying to unlock their true potentials. They were living in his Dad’s house at that time, trying to get a dance together for the dancing competition and win the fangblade cup.

As always, Cole was having a hard time living in harmony with his father. They never got along, and held resentment against each other. They had never been close, and neither of them tried to change that fact.

Throughout the practice, Cole constantly got the moves wrong, being criticized harshly each time he so much as put a toe out of exact alignment. Cole’s temper was rising, as well as his father’s, and they all called on a mutual agreement for a break.

During that break, Zane had pulled him aside and simply let Cole talk. To talk about a life where his father didn’t care about him, where his mom had ran off to who knows where. to talk about the nights where his father didn’t even speak to him, to the days where he lied to his father about where he was, running off to climb mountains rather than dance on a stupid stage.

That was the first time Cole really ever realized how much of a gem Zane was. How much the nindroid meant to the earth elemental.

And now, all Cole could think about was Zane, slowly dying, hooked up to a wire as a last resort, in an effort to save the boy’s life.

Jay looked up from the blueprints, gazing at his leader. The black haired teen was looking down at the journal pages as if they had offended him. His jaw was tense in an anger and seriousness, that Jay had seen many times grace the features of their leader.

“Cole-” Jay began, wanting to comfort his friend. Cole was always one to bottle things up, not wanting to show things because he thought that was the role of being a leader. He wanted to tell his friend everything was alright. However, he was interrupted in surprise. Cole shot out of his chair, causing the object to tumble to the ground with a loud clatter. His large hands gripped the leather journal with alarm.

“It’s here.” Cole breathed. All hearts skipped a beat, Jay’s inhale catching in his throat. Cole looked up from the journal with wide eyes, as if he was afraid to tell them what he was reading.

“Well? Tell us!” Jay exclaimed, his hands waving wildly in excitement. The broad-shouldered man nodded, swallowed, and began to read the journal entries of Dr. Julien.

* * *

 

_I am now leaving the land of Ninjago. It has become too much, the pain and loneliness I live with day to day. I am about to board my boat, the Z.A.N.E (The Zealous, Adventurous, Notorious Expedition). I will be sailing to nowhere in particular. Wherever I shall land will be my new home, if I land at all. Hopefully I’ll be able to find somewhere with life on it to keep me company. But even if it dosen’t, that is not of concern for me. I want to escape, and I must do it now. I may not write much, due to the trials of the seas, but I will try and address my pages as often as I can. Until next time._

* * *

 

“Who’s he talking to?” Jay asked over Cole’s voice.

“Jay, no interruptions. This is apparently important.” Cyrus corrected.

“Right. Sorry.” 

* * *

 

_The seas have been rough on me in my travels. The Z.A.N.E is holding up well, considering the beating it is receiving. The Star Teeth, vicious sea creatures that like to eat sailer’s ships to oblivion, have been trying to chew it away, but they are not succeeding. They have not evolved enough to chew through the metal of my boat. For now, the furious wrath of the ocean has not grasped me yet._

_There have been many storms as of late. I have yet to see clear blue skies on this journey. This does not bother me, however. The ocean waves are enough to bring a smile to my face. It smells of salt water and fish, yet it smells fresh and enjoyable. It reminds me of the beach, from the few times I went as a child with Mother and Father. The fish out here are also not polluted, which is quite enjoyable. I have been fishing for food, which is plentiful. Just last night did I have Sacora fish, a delight that some people desire to cook and eat for their whole lives._

_It sadly did not meet my expectations of a fish so highly desired. Maybe I just didn’t cook it right._

_For now, I have anchored, and have a couple of baskets and nets in the water for catching shellfish and other creatures with high protein. I am doing well, and I am hoping to come across land sometime in the near future. Until next time._

* * *

 

_I am slowly running out of matches, which is not a good sign. I use the matches for boiling the salt water into drinkable water, as well as fires to cook the catches I make._

_I did not expect to be out at sea for this long. It has been roughly twenty days, and I am beginning to feel fatigued. The sun has come back out, which is bad for me, considering I am getting horrible sunburn from my work out on deck. I fear I will soon become malnourished, and therefore I will limit myself to a meal a day, in order to conserve the matches I still have. I am hoping to find land soon. I am filled with worry, of course, but I am still very much excited to be on this journey. The creatures in the water are amazing, and this is a great adventure to take notes and study their movements._

_I cannot dwell on these creatures. But I do take joy in observing these animals and finding companionship with them. Just yesterday did I see a squid, and I swear he waved a tentacle at me._

_I still hold hope for land. Wish me luck. Until next time._

* * *

 

_After thirty six nights at sea, I have finally found land. And a good time too, seeing as how I have only five matches left. For now, my tent is hidden in the bushes in the perimeter of the forest. There is fresh water on this island, as well as a plentiful amount of flint. I came back after a day of exploring with a bag of water bottles, full to the brim with drinkable water, as well as handfuls of flint to start fires once my matches run out. I also returned to my baskets I planted on the shore line this morning, to find them filled with clams. As I write, I am eating a delicious meal of clams. This is a cause for a celebration, of course, which is why I have taken it upon myself to drink my first ever alcoholic beverage: Wine._

_It has a very alien taste. I will not drink it again._

_This island is warm and tropical, full of buzzing insects and chirping birds. The stars are beautiful at night, not affected by the light pollution that affected the skies of Ninjago back at home._

_My only concern is the fact that I am seeing smoke off in the distance. I must not be the only one here, and I took precautions to hide the smoke from my fire. I do not want to alarm anyone of my presence. If the other inhabitants are not friendly, I do not want to cause a run in with them. Maybe tomorrow I will go searching in the shadows of the tall trees, and see who else lives on this small tropical paradise. Until next time._

* * *

 

_I have found the people that live on this island. Apparently, they left Ninjago too, in the midst of the first serpentine wars. They call themselves the Chen clan. They have built sturdy, stone houses, and a nice small town with nice people living in it. They have invited me to stay in one of the empty houses they have in their town. I will be moving in tomorrow in the guidance of sunlight._

_I must be weary of the Chen clan. I have a gut feeling that something is a tad bit off with them. The leader of the Chen clan has a small boy with a peculiar, clear crystal pendant hanging around his neck. There seems to be something inside that crystal. I am very intrigued by these people, but especially the small boy’s necklace. I intend to learn more about it in the coming days of my moving in with the townspeople._

_I have also made an acquaintance with a small fox on the island. It seemed to be very hungry, and when I tossed it a spare part of the fish I was eating, it ate it right away. It kept coming closer until it was only a few inches from sitting in my lap. It was nice to have a friend to eat dinner with. He was a good dinner friend._  
_I shall be moving in tomorrow, but I will not let my guard down. Until next time._

* * *

 

_Today I had breakfast with the leader of the Chen clan. He seems very nice, but his goals and dreams make me weary. He told me he wishes to take all the elemental powers from the people who posses them. His son looks at him with fascination as he talks about such things. I fear this leader. I know a few people who have such powers, and to take away such powers would be to take away everything they have learned to live by. It would destroy their lives._

_He said to extract their powers would make him powerful as well. It seems as though this man has very selfish intent. This man seems very evil. I do not like the way he holds himself above others. I have a feeling conversing and meeting this man will not end well for me. I will proceed with caution around this person in the future. Wish me luck as I hopefully dodge these obstacles. Until next time._

* * *

 

_I have learned of the mystery of the crystal pendant around the small boy’s neck. The frosty, moving material in the crystal is the elemental power of ice. I had to suppress the urge to cover my ears as the chief told me of the story as to how he gained the element. He had killed the man, as the person tried to get away from the leader of the Chen clan._

_The leader was able to use the magical crystal from the caves of the island in order to absorb the powers of the man. He then let him die, without a glance back at the dying man._

_I am making a promise to put those man's powers to good use. I am planning on stealing the necklace from the boy. That elemental power could be used as an unlimited power source. I could use it to create another boy, made to protect the unprotected, with powers made to help others, not to make a specific person powerful. That elemental master deserves more than to be encased into a crystal, that much I know._

_I shall be dropping my stuff off back on the Z.A.N.E tonight. Once I steal the necklace, I will not be able to run with my many materials. I will immediately be hunted. Once I steal the necklace, I must immediately head to my home once more, to build a being powered by the element-infused crystal found in the depths of this island. I do not know if I will succeed, and I know that if I do not succeed, I will be killed. Wish me the best of luck, as I do the most dangerous thing I have ever done in my life. Until next-_  

* * *

 

Cole stopped reading suddenly, distracted by Cyrus moving away from the group quickly, wheeling over to the blueprints that he had hung up on the walls. He was looking at the prints with an intense gaze.

“I found it. A blue disk in his chest. Dr. Julien must have pressed out the crystal into a circle shape. That’s what he’s powered by. That odd blue disk is the unlimited power of the ice element.” Cyrus confirmed, staring in awe at the blueprint, jabbing his finger at where the elemental disk lay.

“Well,” Jay said with a frown on his face, “If it’s unlimited, then why is Zane malfunctioning?”

Cole frowned down at the journal and began to turn the pages quickly. He had to find the time when Dr. Julien began to document his creating of Zane. There had to be a reason the ice element Zane was powered by was faulty now. Cole knew it had something to do with the intense grief the nindroid was feeling.  
His fingers stopped turning, as his eyes fell upon the answer.

“Emotions.” Cole murmured, tracing his thumb over the fading inked word on the paper. Emotions. It began to click, slowly, in his mind, fitting together with a slow creep, that was quickly gaining speed. A sickening click. If this was it… There would be no way to fix Zane.

“What?” Cyrus asked, pulling his eyes away from the blueprint to look at the ninja’s leader.

“Emotions. The ice element that powers Zane fluctuates through emotions. Just like a human. ‘His ice element is able to be used through how he is feeling’... That’s how he was able to unlock the true potential of the previous master's element. He had a huge spike in emotion, caused by finding out his past... When he’s hopeless or scared, he has a harder time summoning his powers. Just like Jay and I. His ability to use his powers stem from his emotions. What he’s feeling.” Cole explained. Jay jumped up and grabbed the journal from Cole’s hands, reading the paragraph himself.

Jay’s eyebrows furrowed in anger, “Why would Julien do that? If Zane experienced an emotional crisis, then he would not be able to use the element, therefore not being able to use his own core power source! What kind of inventor would do that?!”

There was a tense silence among the three of them. Cole felt sick to his stomach. How could Dr. Julien even do this to Zane? He had brought about his creation’s own demise, and there was nothing they could do to fix him. His knuckles turned white as he dug his nails into his palms, chewing at his bottom lip, trying to hold in an explosion.

Explosions were never good. All of his team members had, at one point, been subject to them. They were rare spectacles, since Cole was always able to hide emotions well and keep them away. But when he burst, it was loud and scary. Cyrus chuckled under his breath, momentarily distracting Cole from his building anger.

“He wanted Zane to be human,” Cyrus explained, staring up at the ceiling with a small, grim smile on his face, as if he found such a predicament sadly amusing, “He wanted Zane to have emotions, and was willing to take the risk of doing so.”

Jay scoffed in humor, “So what, we just take him to a therapist and fix his emotions that way?”

Cole growled, a scowl forming on his face. Jay looked over in worry, knowing what that growl meant. He immediately regretted saying such a joke, even if he had been doing it to try and lighten the mood. The leader bit down on his bottom lip as hard as he could, drawing blood as he tried to hold in the rising anger.

Anger for the inventor, who put Zane’s life at risk. Anger at the world, for giving them more problems, just as they thought they had found peace. Angry at himself, for falling in love with a man that could never return the feelings back. Anger. Pure anger.

Jay stumbled, the ground beginning to softly rumble, like the purr of a cat. Cyrus latched his hands onto his wheels, trying to move against the shaking and steady himself.

Jay observed as Cole’s eyes became a darker shade of green. They were losing their companion fast, the anger soaking into his very being. He tried to reach for Cole, to do anything to pull the man out of it, but the ground shook again. This time, it was a stronger tremor, and it threw Jay off his feet.

“Cole!” Jay cried desperately, “Don’t burst! You’re going to make this whole building come down!”

As if on que, the building shook. The lamp that had lit the room fell off the desk, smashing to the floor and, in consequence, flooded the room in darkness. There were screams heard from the town below as the earth rumbled violently beneath their feet. There were shouts in the hallway, and someone threw open the door to the study. Jay could make out Misako’s face in the doorway, the sliver of moonlight from the window falling on her face.

“It’s Cole! He’s-” Jay tried, when the building shook and rocked, the loud creaking of the wood above them giving off a horrible feeling that it would collapse. The hanging lanterns out in the hall were swaying back and forth, as if they were in the Z.A.N.E, experiencing a rough and wild storm at sea.

Misako was able to stumble into the room, and lurched forward to grab Cole, the momentum of the quake taking her there. She held onto the black haired teen, who was tense and solid, fists curled tightly.

“Cole!” She yelled in his ear, trying to pull him out, “Cole, stop this!”

The only response was a tear, streaking down his cheek as the earth rumbled on.

Then the crack happened. It sounded off in the distance, some many miles off. It sounded as though the ground was splitting open, the earth breaking at the seams.

Misako wouldn’t have been surprised if Ninjago City was beginning to feel the tremors.

The wind threw open the glass window, forcing it off it’s hinges, flying through the room and almost crashing into Cyrus. The man was able to maneuver out of the way, just in time, the glass instead shattering on the wooden floor.

Cole seemed to be glaring down at one object, as the wind tousled his black hair around his face. A journal, Misako noticed. The pages were flying, as if the wind was reading through it quickly. This was Dr. Julien’s journal, last time she checked.

The old woman gasped, as she suddenly understood what was going on.

They had found out something about Zane. And it was not good.

Now, Misako was no idiot. She knew when someone was in love with the other. The way Cole looked at Zane, the way he stared at the teen as if all the light in the world radiated off of the nindroid; Cole was head over heels, and as of right now, very scared for the man he loved. He needed Zane. Misako could see it in his tears. Zane would be the only thing to get him to calm down, and stop the earthquake before someone got seriously injured.

“We have to get him to Zane!” Misako yelled over the roaring wind and shaking ground. Jay tried to crawl off the ground, but was knocked down once more.

“We can’t move!” Mr. Borg yelled back, his wheelchair sending him backward into the wall.

“You take him!” Jay yelled at Misako. The brown haired boy was beginning to take shelter under the desk Cole had been working at, assuming the worse, figuring this earthquake was not going to end well.

Misako grabbed Cole and began to drag him as best he could. The teen was heavy, like a large boulder. She couldn’t make much progress, with Cole as stiff as he was.

The ground rumbled louder underneath them, indicating they would be too late to be able to make it to Zane’s room.

She jumped as she felt a warm hand fall onto her shoulder, gripping tightly to her in an effort to steady the person the hand was connected to.

“I’ll help you.” Garmadon said over the violence, and he grabbed Cole as well.

They began to tug together, dragging the earth elemental down the hallway. Neither could hear the grunting of the other over the earth’s tremors.

They burst into Zane and Cole’s room, to find Zane wide awake. His icy blues were wide open, and his hands were clutching the bed sheets in fright. There were sparks coming from the outlet. This was not good. If the electricity went out, so would Zane.

Cole became soft in their hands, as if he had suddenly been able to gain some control over his mind. His eyes fell to Zane, who looked back at Cole with a fright unseen before.

The man wrenched himself out of the adults grasp, running to Zane with a fear in his eyes. The nindroid looked shocked as Cole threw himself on top of Zane, as if protectively keeping him from the world outside. He gripped Zane’s shoulders and pressed his forehead to his, teary eyes and surprised ones looking back at one another.  
“We… We can’t… We can’t save you…” Cole managed through sputters, before the tears flowed out of his emerald pools. Zane’s eyes widened at the words, watching as his leader became undone above him, reduced to a shivering, shaking, crying mess. The salty tears began falling onto Zane’s cheeks, making him jerk in surprise by the sudden wetness. The shakes of the earth rocked the ceiling above them, but as far as the two were aware, that was of no concern for them. In that moment, the only thing in the universe was the two of them, grieving together.

Zane felt like crying too. Here was his best friend, losing all control because of him. He would forever have to be hooked into a wire, never able to walk or save the world again.

Granted, he did feel like the man above him was overreacting a little. The crying mess before him was breaking apart, as if his universe was hinged on Zane. As if Zane was the center of all that he cared about. Zane felt a light feeling in his chest at this notion, as if it made him happy or even giddy, in such a somber time. He shook the feeling free, and turned his attention to his best friend, who needed him now.

The nindroid closed his eyes, bringing up his arms and wrapping them around Cole’s neck. With the maximum amount of effort he could use. He slowly pulled down the man with the grip he had on his neck, gently laying him on top of his cool body. The temperature of Zane’s skin seemed to calm the boy down slightly, the tremors lessening in their power as well.

He saw the two adults leave the room out of the corner of his eye, leaving Cole and him alone in the dark. Cole was still trembling, his body racking with caught breath, trying to calm himself down.

Zane slowly ran a hand up and down Cole’s back, softly and carefully, trying to ease his leader. The tremors stopped at this, and Cole’s breathing slowed to an even breath. The feather light brushes felt so heavenly to him. They felt so right.

Sleep began to overtake Cole, who was rapidly calming down from his outburst. He rolled off of Zane, flopping onto the side of the bed not occupied by the boy. Zane shifted to follow Cole, the two facing each other on the bed, staring into each other’s eyes.

“I’m… I’m sorry Zane. I don’t know what came over me. I… I can’t… I can’t live in a world without… Without...” Cole tried, his voice shaking and cracking with emotion. Zane shook his head and wrapped his arms around Cole, bringing him in closer to press against his body.

He liked the feel of Cole’s body against his, skin against skin. It was calming, it was loving, it was peaceful. Without thinking about what he was doing, he strained his neck, and placed a soft kiss on the man’s dark cheek. Cole gasped slightly, loving the feeling of the smooth cold lips caress his heated skin. It was bliss.

Cole knew he wasn’t sharing a kiss in any romantic sense. Zane did not feel that way about him. But he could still fall into a satisfied silence, not letting the tingle of the kiss fade from his cheek.

The two of them fell asleep there, Cole falling asleep to the bliss of the kiss, and Zane slowly falling asleep to the confusion, wondering why he had enjoyed kissing his best friend the way Jay enjoyed kissing Nya.

* * *

 He had been screaming in his cell all night, screaming profanities that the guards did not enjoy. Many of the fellow inmates pleaded with Morro, wanting nothing more than the enraged screaming to stop. But the teen refused, as stubborn as he was, and made sure none of the ghosts got sleep.

And this is why he sat alone during free time. No one wanted to be near Morro, too angry at him to reach out a helping hand. He had been rude to them, and so the cold shoulder seemed to be the punishment everyone thought he deserved.

Morro told himself he couldn’t care less. He liked pouting in the corner, giving off his fair amount of death stares to all who dared to look back at him. He was in rage, having been replaced by the only person who ever seemed to care about him or what he did. Pulled off drugs and trash cans, Sensei Wu had saved Morro, giving him a good home and a good life, promising the small boy that he would one day do great things.

If only Morro could go back in time and tell his child self that every word was a lie.

The teen was too busy, wallowing in his self pity, to notice the purple form from the day before approach him.

“Hey.”

Morro jumped, immediately pressing a scowl to his face as he looked up at the purple, pulsing shadow. He once again resorted to glaring at the general area of where the thing’s eyes probably were, seeing as how they were not visible in this form of the Overlord.

“Bugger off, Overdork.” Morro growled. He expected the purple shadow to stalk off, not letting his immortal pride to be tainted with rude insults. Instead, to Morro’s immediate surprise, the Overlord chuckled.

“Ha. Overdork. That’s new.” The Lord of evil commented, his dark voice tainted with what sounded to be a smile. Morro was too surprised to counter with one of his witty remarks, and instead stared at the Overlord in a state of awe. Taking this as an invitation, the Overlord sat down with Morro.

The boy with the green highlight immediately composed himself, his scowl returning to his face.

“What do you want.” Morro demanded.

“For someone to defeat those ninja and take over Ninjago. It’s about time they get a change of scenery.” The Overlord said, the smile still evident in his voice. Morro snorted at this wish.

“Yeah, tell me about it. They deserve a little bit of a beating. They gotta lose.” Morro agreed. Now, he didn’t really mean all of that. Sure, he wanted to maybe kill Lloyd. But to take over all of Ninjago? Now that seemed to be a little unnecessary. However, Morro was simply just trying to make conversation, and also trying to get the Overlord to leave.

“Well,” The Overlord said, “There is a way, if you do it tonight, to get back to Ninjago and give those ninja a taste of what it feels like to lose.”

Morro’s scowl slipped off completely, his full attention now on the Overdork. Normally, Morro didn’t like falling for baits and offers. But this was far too good to give up.

“What do you mean…?” Morro pressed, his curiosity plain as day on his face. The Overlord smiled a devilish smile to himself.

“Well, you see, my arrival into the cursed realm has caused sort of a… rift, shall you say. A rift in the realms that, if you catch it before it disappears tomorrow morning, you can be reunited with Ninjago.” The Overlord said, relishing in the malicious twinkle that glinted in the boy’s eyes.

Morro could feel himself getting carried away, and tried to bring himself back. The overlord was the lord of evil, and was a deceiver, a being with a wicked way in words. His eyes squinted in suspicion.

“Where is this rift? And how should I know if I can trust someone like you?” Morro asked. He knew that if he could see the evil doer’s face right then, he would be able to see the evil grin gracing the lord’s lips.

“You can find out tonight, if you’d like. It’ll be on the third floor, men’s bathroom. Come there at eleven tonight, if you dare to take a chance.” The Overdork said. He watched as a malicious grin formed on Morro’s lips at the offer.

“Taking chances is my favorite hobby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUN  
> THE PLOT IS FORMING  
> OH NO  
> (I hope you enjoyed!)


	10. Reboot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Morro's plan finally begins to unfold, and Zane realizes something that could change his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS A SUPER IMPORTANT CHAPTER like everything you have been waiting for in this chapter happens and I'm so excited to hear your reactions XD Also, I'm sorry if my updating is not consistent, school is a buttface, and plus with all of this finalizing of college stuff; I'm swamped! But I'm still here, no worries there :p Anyways, enjoy this chapter!

Night had fallen in the cursed realm. The halls were quiet, the only sound among them being the guard’s feet. The night had gone without Morro's anguished screaming, or any other disturbances from the inmates. The guards could breath easily in the night, they could relax without having to worry about the jailed beings. In the night, when they were all sleeping, was the only time the guards could rest.

However, the guards were not aware that there was an inmate that was still awake, sitting in the shadows of his cell, hiding himself from view as he watched the unsuspecting guards walk by. They were not aware of the chaos that was about to ensue from this man, on what seemed to be a calm and quiet night. The man stared at each guard that walked by with an analyzing glare, trying to formulate a way to slip out of his cell unnoticed. A task that would be hard to complete, seeing as how well the jail was fortified. His cell was full to the brim with security measures.

Now, to be honest, Morro wasn’t exactly sure as to how he was going to escape and get to the men’s bathroom on the third floor. He hadn’t really thought it through, being guided purely by the adrenaline pumping in his veins; adrenaline caused by the idea of going back home. The excited high he was experiencing was drowning out his usual sly and smart critical thinking.

There was a possibility that the Overlord had been lying to him. There was a possibility that the Overlord was drawing Morro into a trap, using his cynical mind to do cynical things. But Morro wasn’t thinking straight, not even considering the possibility that the Overlord was lying. He was too driven with the idea of going back home, a fantasy that could become reality in less than an hour. After twenty long years, Morro could be going back to his beloved Ninjago. To the city, to the villages, to the dry deserts and expansive beaches; to the world he had fallen in love with so long ago.

He needed to go back, he had to. There was no other thing left for him in his life, there was nothing he wanted to do more than to go back home. He needed to go back and live in the world he belonged in. He needed to go back and prove his teacher his worth. He needed to go back and show the impostor boy who had the _real_ power. To defeat the boy that was in the place that _he_ was supposed to be in. The hero that he was promised he was going to be.

Anger boiled softly at this thought, his title of being hero of his beloved homeland swiftly taken away from him. And from what he had heard, taken away from him by a small boy, who didn’t even know how to throw a punch. A puny boy took the place of Morro, someone who deserved to be the all powerful more than anyone else. Especially more than a runt.

His eyes drifted around his cell, looking for something that could help him escape. He didn’t expect to find much, seeing as how the jail was filled with equipment that stopped such escapes from happening. If he hadn’t found a plan of escape in his twenty years of living in the same cell, he doubted his ability to find one now.

That was, until he felt a soft gust of air from up above him.

Morro gazed up at the ceiling from his spot in the shadows. The faint flow of air was coming from the vent in the ceiling, something he never thought he could use in order to escape. Until now.

The vent was small, yes, but Morro didn’t plan on climbing in it. It didn’t matter how small the vent was, his power could work through even the tiniest of holes. A grin seeped onto his features at how beautiful this escape was going to be. The guards would have never seen it coming. Of course they wouldn’t expect it, they had no idea that Morro could control the winds coming from that simple, small air vent in the concrete ceiling.

The hardest part now was to summon his powers. Something he didn’t know if he could do, seeing as how he had not used his powers in roughly two decades.

There was a faint flutter in his heart, as he lightly summoned his power, pulling at the air around his fingertips. It had been so long since he had manipulated the air; his lungs swelled at the feeling of such power, a feeling of relief and confidence coursing through every part of his being. Part of himself was reawakening once more, and it was the most empowering feeling he had had in a long time.

The power was almost overwhelming, but some way, he was able to control it. There was no guard passing by to see a pair of emerald, glowing eyes in the shadows, bright with strength and malignant intent.

In a test of his reawakened power, he flexed his fingers, and pointed them at the small metal vent. Very slowly, trying not to go too fast and release an overly powerful gust, he turned his hand in the air as if he was turning a doorknob. The air was easily manipulated, and he was easily able to  to send a steady, soft gust into the vent.

The vent whistled softly as the extra flow of wind was added. It was a quiet whistle, nothing loud enough to alarm anyone. His wind needed more power, if his plan was at all going to work.

Morro gritted his teeth as he tried to control his power, trying his best to boost the power level of the gust without letting it spiral out of his control. The vent screeched louder at the added power. Inmates began to awake in confusion, beginning to notice the screeching sound that was not usually there. Luckily, the guards had yet to hear the disturbance.

That was, until the air duct suddenly made a deafening pop, bursting from all the added pressure. The broken air pipe sent Morro’s torrential winds through the inmate’s air vents, throwing the inmates off their feet, slamming into the concrete walls of their cells. Guards yelled in surprise, rushing about, trying to figure out a way to fix the problem.

Morro smirked at the chaos ensuing around him. Everything was going according to plan. No one was aware of the boy with the luminescent green eyes, slipping out of his jail cell and escaping under the noses of the hysterical authorities.

He started to run down the hall, away from the hectic scrambling, his feet softly padding against the floor as he did so. No inmates saw him escaping, and if they did, none of them cared or felt the need to call him out.

His running slowed as he came to the end of the hall, approaching two silver swinging doors, heavy and loud due to their metal composure. It was of great importance to make sure that he opened these doors just right. He had to make sure they did not make a noise as he opened them, but he also had to make sure he could do it fast enough, before any guards could see him escaping through the doors.

Morro gritted his teeth as he opened the doors. To his satisfaction, the heavy metal doors did not make a sound, almost as if they wanted him to escape. They shut behind him softly, giving Morro privacy to the concrete stairs. He breathed calmly once. He was almost there, he was almost to his destination. He calmly exhaled, in an effort to steady the coursing adrenaline in his veins.

He then continued onward. Three flights of grey concrete stairs, taking two at a time in order to get to the bathroom as quickly as he could. However, in his anticipation, his steps became louder, his feet sounding heavier, slapping a little more loudly on the ground. Morro took no notice, his thoughts too clouded by his own desires.

He opened the metal doors on the third landing, once he reached them. He was now on a balcony, just another level of the rows of inmates. Morro took a sharp right, disappearing into the dark shadows of the narrow space between the cells and the concrete wall. Once again, no inmates exclaimed at Morro’s presence, either because they were asleep, or because they did not care.

A smile spread across his face as his eyes rested on a swinging metal door up ahead in the shadows, a blue stick figure printed on the dirty surface of the door. He eagerly grabbed the handle, and pulled, slipping inside the tiled lavatory, not caring how loud the door closed shut behind him.

“Ah, congratulations, boy. You trusted me.” A voice said from one of the stalls. There was no doubt about it, that was the Overlord’s voice.

Morro watched as the stall door swung open, revealing inside it the purple mass of evil. Morro eyed the stall frantically, looking for a vortex of some sort, or an alteration of the picture before him, even a trick of the light; anything to indicate there was indeed a dimension break.

But he could not find it.

Anger flared, a signature growl forming on Morro’s lips as he glared at the Overlord.

“You tricked me.” The teen snarled, his eyes glowing brighter, his powers jumping at the chance to be released.

The Overlord chuckled, shaking his head, and extended a pulsing purple hand towards the grimy grey toilet, “No I did not. Come look.”

Morro’s anger disappeared, and quickly turned to confusion, as he approached the toilet. Instantly, he recoiled at the sight.

“This must be some sort of joke!” Morro explained. The Overlord laughed at the boy’s anguish.

“Not a joke, mortal. This is your precious portal.” The being barked, a grin obviously apparent in his voice.

Morro leaned forward again, looking down into the toilet waters. Or, at least, where the water should have been. In the place of the fowl water was an unmoving vortex of pink and baby blue, nestled snug in the bowl of the grimy toilet. The only way to get the vortex swirling and working again was to...

“Let me guess, you have to flush me down the toilet?” Morro asked, a hint of hopeful sarcasm in his voice. The Overlord snorted at this.

“It’s your only way out.”

Morro grimaced, peering into the bowl once more, when there were sudden shouts, coming from three floors below them. The glowing green eyes bugged in surprise, his heart picking up into a new, galloping speed, knowing the guards had finally found his absence.

“Oh dear,” The Overlord drawled, “It seems as though you don’t have much time left.”

Morro ignored this, and jumped into the toilet, his heart hammering with urgency.

“Flush me.” He ordered, trying his best to glare into the Overlord’s eyes, or at least, where he thought they were. The guards voices were beginning to get louder as they approached the double doors, three floors below them.

“Before I do, I need to tell you a few key things for when you arrive in Ninjago.” The Overlord said, his dark rumble of a voice becoming serious.

“Hurry it, then.” Morro growled. He could hear the slapping of polished black shoes on the concrete stairs.

“When you arrive in Ninjago, you’ll be in the form of a ghost. As a ghost, you will not be able to do much, and you won’t really be able to achieve any evil agendas you make for yourself,” The Overlord explained, his hand slowly reaching out for the shiny silver handle of the toilet, “So you’re going to want to become a solid being.”

“How am I supposed to do something like that?” Morro hissed. The double metal doors of the third floor swung open, but neither of the evil masterminds could hear footsteps coming down the shadowy hallway just yet.

“When I was destroyed by that blonde boy, some evil remnants from me were left behind. Pure evil power, that, if you were able to find, you could use to manifest yourself into a solid form, and strengthen your powers.”

“And let me guess. Those powers are spread out all across Ninjago.” Morro whispered irritably.

“No, actually. They are located in the center of the city. The location of where I was… Defeated…” The Overlord’s voice faded as the first sounds of slapping shoes were heard, coming quickly down the hallway.

“Flush me now.” Morro ordered urgently.

The Overlord nodded, and pulled the toilet's silver lever.

“Good Luck.” The purple blob muttered, before stepping out of the stall and closing it behind him. Morro watched below him as the vortex began to swirl rapidly, inviting him along.

He took one, deep breath, before dropping his feet into the bowl, suddenly disappearing as he got sucked in, a loud _swoosh_ filling the tilled room.

At that same second, the guards threw open the bathroom door, panting loudly from the exercise they were getting. Their eyes fell onto the odd picture of the Overlord washing his hands. The water fell right through the purple fingers, however, not at all washing him.

“What have you been doing.” One of them ordered.

The Overlord looked up from the sink, an invisible smirk gracing his features.

“I’ve simply just been ensuring a brighter future for the realm of Ninjago.”

* * *

 

As most mornings were beginning to unfold, Zane woke up with Cole beside him. It was an odd occurrence that Zane never expected he would enjoy. He had never been one to cuddle, and had never felt the desire to share his sleep with another. But now that he was so experienced in resting with his best friend, Zane couldn’t imagine awakening by himself. The warmth that came with sleeping with Cole, the comfort that Cole gave him, was something he never wanted to let go.

As he slowly gained consciousness, Zane became aware of his position with the black-haired man. His cool back was pressed against Cole’s warm chest once more, the strong man stuck intimately against him. However, different from the morning of Zane’s shut down, Cole was no longer fondling Zane’s pajama bottoms. Instead, Cole’s arms were wrapped possessively around Zane, holding the nindroid in a tight, yet comfortable grip.

The man had not gotten a lot of sleep the night before. Zane could remember Cole whimpering late into the night, as if he were having nightmares. Cole seemed to have broken apart the night before, losing all his cautious control he worked hard to achieve, shaking the earth with a power Zane had not expected.

The nindroid had wanted to cry too, when he had found that he would not be able to recover from his sorry state. He had wanted to scream, to reach inside him and rip out his wires. He could not be fixed. He would never be able to walk again, never be able to _talk_.

But for some reason, he did not cry. Not because he was unable to, that wasn’t the case. It felt more like he didn’t need to. Being in Cole’s arms was all the reassurance Zane needed that everything was going to be okay. He did not feel a reason to be sad. In fact, if he had been able to speak, he would’ve been trying to comfort Cole, instead of feeling sad for himself..

To be honest, Cole wasn’t always the best with words. But he always wore his heart on his sleeve, and he more often used his actions to express himself. The night before was a prime example of this. Cole’s love and kindness for his friends and family was his strength, but also his greatest weakness.

The shaking of the ground had alarmed Zane, but not because it threatened his life. He knew, as soon as the earthquake hit, that Cole needed his help. The man was breaking, bottling up too many emotions and letting them all out with a single burst, as he always did.

Zane smiled gently, being brought back to the present, as Cole gave a sudden snore in his sleep, sounding quite loud in the nindroid’s ear. It was just like him; a sweet boy. A little void of manners, but loving all the same.

However, the smile on Zane’s lips slipped off quickly, as his emotions suddenly came to a road block. A halt, as if something was not letting him progress further. It was an odd feeling, to have your emotions suddenly stop forming, as if by a will of their own. The boy frowned as his system would not let him progress further, would not let him delve into the world that was his admiration for Cole. It was as if a large, towering wall was blocking the nindroid from something spectacular, something amazing, that lay just beyond the bricks.

Zane twitched in discomfort, shifting in Cole’s strong hold. It was not a good feeling, to have one’s own body restrict itself on its own accord. It was almost painful, similar to the feeling of a word resting on the tip of one’s tongue, not being able to recall it.

There was a sudden knock on the bedroom door, and Zane quickly shut his eyes, acting as if he had never woken up. Being the man that he was, it was easy for him to fake such things. This was much different from Cole, whose expressions were never hidden well, although the leader liked to think differently.

He felt Cole jerk awake beside him, unwrapping his arms from Zane in alarm, as if he did not want anyone to see him holding Zane so intimately.

Cole squinted at the light invading from the hallway, only registering a fuzzy image of the person in the doorway.

“Cole?” The woman said, squinting her eyes to find the leader in the darkness.

“Mi-Misako? Is everything alright?” Cole questioned in his sleep-drunken haze, sitting up in a clumsy fashion. For some reason Zane could not understand, he found his chest becoming light and fluttery at the sound of Cole’s hazy, morning voice. It sent a leap to his stomach, a reaction he did not comprehend.

“Yes, everything’s fine. Would you be a dear and come with me for some shopping in the village? My husband doesn't seem to find enjoyment in spending money.” Misako whispered in a calming voice, chuckling a little to herself.

“Um.. I guess… What about Zane?” Cole managed, as he slowly crawled out of bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“I can… I can take care of him.” A groggy voice replied in the bunk above. Jay seemed to have awoken as well, disturbed by the light flooding into the room.

Misako chuckled, “You boys are all such zombies in the morning.”

She closed the door behind her, giving the two boys their privacy as they dressed themselves into fresh clothes. It was at that same moment that Zane decided to take a tiny peak towards his brothers, something he instantly regretted.

He quickly shut his eyes again, suddenly understanding Cole’s dinosaur-like reaction to Zane’s half naked figure. It was mesmerizing, the dark bare skin and the rippling muscles, unconsciously flexing at his every move. Cole was a work of art, a sculpture, chiseled to pure perfection. Zane knew that if he touched that bare back, Cole’s skin would be warm, silky and soft beneath Zane’s chilling touch.

Zane squeezed his eyes tighter, as if he was trying to erase the image he had just witnessed. He knew it was not normal to look at his brother in such fascination, in such admiration. That was how intimate couples looked at each other, not close friends. That much he knew. It was not right, it was not right to desire something as silly as to feel another’s skin. He knew, for sure, that being hooked up to the sub-par energy source was doing nothing good for his thought process. There was something very off with him.

Zane listened as Cole left the room, walking down the hall and down the stairs, going off to join Misako on her quest of shopping. Jay watched intently as Cole’s figure disappeared, as if he had been waiting for Cole to leave.

Jay nodded once, when Cole was no longer visible, and then proceeded to cup his hands around his mouth, “The coast is clear”, He whispered roughly, his sleepy tone having vanished completely.

Zane couldn’t help but open his eyes now, interested in what was playing out before him. He watched as Cyrus Borg quickly wheeled into the room, carrying a couple rolled up tubes of Zane’s blueprints. Jay quickly closed the door, and the pair of them turned to Zane, as if they were ready to prey on their next victim of their skilled engineering.

Jay laughed at the frightened look in the icy blue eyes, “Don’t worry Zane, we aren’t here to scrap you. In fact, we think we _may_ have figured out a way to fix you.”

A twinkle of interest sparked in the man’s eyes. This was good news, compared to the news he had received the night before from Cole. The hope of getting better was something Zane immediately embraced.

“The only thing is we thought Cole may not… Approve of the method we came up with.” Mr. Borg explained, with a small grimace on his lips.

Jay then proceeded to explain the conditions of Zane’s internal workings. Of how they were influenced by emotions, and fluctuate due to the emotions he experienced. Zane nodded and played along, but he eagerly awaited to hear how they thought they could fix him. It was fascinating and all, how his systems worked, but he was eager to become better again.

“We know there are some emotions that are not currently turned on in your system. We thought, maybe, that if we were able to switch on some choice feelings you currently don’t have, that maybe we could boost your power level. We could influence the amount of positive emotions you are feeling. We don’t know how well it will work, but it's worth a try.” Cyrus explained, as he spread the blueprints out on the end of the bed.

Cyrus turned to Zane, and rose his eyebrows in an unspoken question. Zane then realized they wanted to do this now, before Cole came back and could oppose their plan. Zane nodded in consent, but felt slightly confused. He did not understand as to why Cole would have a problem against this. The idea seemed like a good one to Zane, and yet he could see no reason why one would be opposed to such a solution.

“We believe that Cole is very close to you. So close that he would not enjoy the idea of forcing new emotions on you, or something like that.” Jay answered, as if he had been able to hear Zane’s unspoken question. However, Jay was not able to meet Zane’s eyes as he said this, instead glancing quickly to Cyrus, who returned the quick glance. There was something more to that statement, that neither one of them was going to share.

The pair, in all honesty, could not be more sure that Cole had a crush on Zane. There was no hiding emotions on Cole’s part, even if he did think he was concealing his true feelings. They knew that Cole wouldn’t respond very well to the thought of giving Zane more emotions, especially if they pertained to more romantic things. There could be the fear that Zane would not be able to return such feelings, or even worse, feel the same way towards Cole. But they didn’t find the need in telling Zane any of this. This was something for Cole and Zane to work out on their own, without the help of outsiders like themselves.

Zane nodded in understanding, and lifted his arms over his head as Cyrus pulled off Zane’s shirt.

“Alright Zane, lay down flat on the bed. We’re going to open you up and see what we can find.”

The hatch easily opened, and before Zane knew it, the pair were poking and prodding at his wires, trying to find the hidden buttons and switches that were indicated on the blueprints. Zane closed his eyes and took deep, long breaths, trying not to get worked up over the uncomfortable feeling, or the hatred that came with him being an artificial human. He was suddenly pulled roughly out of his calm breathing, though, when he heard a click of a switch.

He felt the urge to laugh then. To joke and pull pranks and sing his heart out in the shower, as Cole did. His systems whirred, as if an engine was slowly being started. The nindroid let out a surprised gasp at the sudden emotion that was humor.

“Oops, sorry Zane… I’ll warn you next time.” Jay mumbled, a red blush of embarrassment reaching his ears.

There was yet another couple minutes of silence, before either of them spoke.

“Alright Zane, I’m about to turn on the “pride” emotion. Get ready.” Jay warned.

There was another flick, and Zane was filled with the feeling of, well, pride. He felt good about his achievements, and felt somewhat joyful to be the being he was.

“Oh, nice, that was good.” Jay muttered, as he watched Zane react to the emotions of pride. Some youthful glow had returned to Zane’s eyes, the icy blue becoming more icy and distinct, closer to what it used to look like. The whirring began to sound less broken, as if his systems were definitely benefiting from the awakening emotions.

It went on like this for almost an hour, feelings such as “hope”, “satisfaction”, “enthusiasm”, “inspiration”, and “joy” were introduced to Zane’s list of emotions. His system was purring warmly, happy and content.

“He’s almost there,” Cyrus muttered to himself, looking at the blue prints harder, trying to find the right emotion to fully boot the nindroid to stable power, “Just one more-”

Zane was not warned this time of the emotion that was about to be introduced to him. Instead, it seemed as though Jay had suddenly reacted on impulse, seeing a switch that particularly called to him.

“Holy-” Zane gasped violently, his first words since his shut down escaping his lips, in his wild, flailing frenzy.

The emotions rushed through him, sending his system into a reboot. But although his system was whirring to life, he was now less aware than he had been on the electrical power source. The feeling that Jay had turned on was swamping over his consciousness, overwhelming him with a surge of feelings that he had not been aware of; the surge of feelings he was now fully certain had been hiding behind the wall of admiration.

The sudden need for Cole was coursing through him. A yearning, a yearning Zane had only seen when Jay talked about Nya. Zane understood now what it felt like to have a crush… No, to be in _love._ He wanted… He wanted to kiss Cole. To dedicate his life to him. To hold on to him, be able to say they were for each other. He wanted a future with Cole, a future that involved romance and family, happiness and love… Love. Zane’s chest felt light and heavy at the same time, his wires pumping rapidly at the realization.

“What did you do?!” Cyrus exclaimed, obviously alerted by Zane’s labored, shaking breaths.

“Love!” Jay shouted, his brow furrowed in concern as he watched his teammate struggle.

“Love?! Why would you do that, Love is the strongest, most painful-” Cyrus stopped in the middle of his scolding, gazing down in amazement at the sight before him.

Zane had a sweet smile on his face, his icy blues twinkling once more as they used to, although with more unshed tears. Happy tears? The boy’s labored gasps were gone, replaced by soothing inhales and exhales, enjoying the scents he had not been able to smell in his restricted state. There was a blaze of energy in Zane’s cheeks, a healthy flush that, only moments ago, had been a slightly concerning grey.

“I do believe I am in love.” He whispered, a sloppy grin on his face. They smiled joyfully in return.

Zane was back.

 

* * *

 

Pain. That was all Morro was aware of. A horrible, stabbing pain. The sunlight pierced every inch of his ghost skin, a burning sensation that was horribly unpleasant. He quickly crawled into the shadows, away from the brightness that was the realm of Ninjago, finding shelter in a quiet alley way. His mind was scattered, disoriented by the swirling vortex, the pain mixing his thoughts into a confusing cluster.

_“I have to find the dark remnants… I have to find the dark remnants…”_ Morro whispered to himself, shaking in the shadows as he repeated this mantra in a whisper. He rocked back and forth in his fetal position, knees hugged tightly against his chest, the hours quickly ticking by in his unaware state.

The sun disappeared behind the horizon hours later, causing Morro’s shaking to suddenly stop. He blinked his eyes several times in surprise, feeling well and awake in the moonlight.

_“I have to find the dark remnants…”_ He whispered to himself once more. Quickly, in a sudden urgency, he sprang up from his position in the abandoned alley way. He had to get to the center of the city. He had to find the dark remnants. He had to revive his solid form.

His running steps ghosted smoothly over the ground, never once touching the surface of the city concrete. Morro did not look around him, he did not stop to be amazed at how different the city looked now. He did not think about anything else but the dark remnants.

His feet lead him to a construction site, abandoned at the moment, for the workers were all asleep. Morro squinted his eyes, trying to find what he was looking for. He did not know what it looked like, and he didn’t exactly know where to start looking. But he was determined, determined to find the substance he needed in order to feel the Ninjago soil once more beneath his feet.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a purple, pulsating blob, bobbing weakly above the ground several feet away from him. The purple pulsing looked exactly alike to the Overlord’s body.

This was it. This was what Morro needed.

He quickly sprinted towards the object, holding out his arms to snatch it from it’s spot. But he didn’t need to snatch it. It rushed towards him, as if magnetically attracted to Morro. There was an instant feeling of gratification, as the power made contact with Morro. It felt powerful and strong, harmonizing in a perfect key with the powers of wind that he possessed.

He shrieked with glee, the rush running through him. It felt amazing, and his body was reacting pleasantly, becoming more solid with each remnant he came into contact with. His crazed laughter pierced through the quiet night, filling the void with a bone-chilling sound.

But no one was around to hear it. And no one was aware that the new threat to their home world was stronger now, stronger than ever before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TA-DA! I hope you enjoyed! Thoughts? Concerns? Questions? Talk to me, I love hearing from you all :p


	11. Rise of the Spinjitzu Master

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cole and Zane have a conversation for the first time since the nindroid shut down. Meanwhile, Morro's plan begins to rapidly unfold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY HELL this chapter is basically angst.  
> WARNING: Zane revisits his suicide attempt in the boy's conversation. Just warning you.  
> THERE IS A LOT OF TEARS IN THIS CHAPTER  
> BUT IT'S NECESSARY  
> I PROMISE  
> (please don't hate me)

As much as Cole enjoyed shopping, he had not prepared for the chaotic experience that came with spending money with Lloyd’s mother.

The woman was an avid shopper. She had some self constraint, keeping herself away from the objects that were on the more expensive side. Anything less than a couple hundred, however, was up for grabs.

He spent most of the time following Misako around, acting as if he was her silent shadow. On any other normal day, Cole would have been slightly more interested in the merchandise, possibly even wandering off on his own to do his own shopping of sorts. But today, Cole couldn’t do such things. His mind was elsewhere, thinking, pondering, and franticing. 

He knew Misako could see the distant look in his eyes. He could easily tell she was worried about him, seeing as how she constantly kept trying to engage him in the present moment. Anything that could stop the glaze from filming over his eyes, anything to stop his gaze from looking around at the town around them.

The town of which had been harmed by the earthquakes the night before. 

Some vendors were closed in the market that the pair were currently in, signs on the store fronts indicating they were “out for repairs”. There were families, working with sweat on their brows, as they fixed their broken homes. There was garbage piled outside of each wooden house, the remains of loved furniture and precious decorations hastily removed from the house, as if no one wanted to look at the sad rubble of their broken belongings.

Cole could feel eyes linger on his presence. He felt vulnerable, open, and guilty. No one knew it was he, of course, who had brought such an unexpected disaster to their beloved town. But Cole still felt the guilt weigh down on his shoulders with each and every glance.

The worst of it all, though, was not the destruction the town had experienced. No, it was the woods that brought Cole the most sadness. Trees had been uprooted, bringing down bird nests with them. The sounds of nature itself were gone, leaving a deathly silence to hang in the absence of life. Not a single animal made a noise, as if they were all mourning the earth’s agitated groans it had made the night before. Cole grimaced at this, how the beautiful nature had been crushed and muted, all by the power of his uncontrollable fit. Life killed by his own dirty hands.

Cole looked nervously down at his shoes, shuffling them in an anxious manner. He wanted to go back to the monastery, back to Zane, back to the boy’s cooling arms. Back to the blissful ignorance of dreams, where Zane  _ would _ get better, where the two of them could be happy together.

His mind was still stuck on the events that had occurred the night before. All hope was lost. There was no way to stop the shutting down of the teen’s system, no way to pull him out of his slowly deteriorating state. Cole would never hear Zane’s voice again,  never see him laugh, and that very fact was killing him.

“What do you think of this one?” Misako asked, snapping Cole out of his depressive thoughts. She was holding up a pale green hat, scanning the straw weaving as if she was looking for a flaw in them.

“Oh, um, it looks great.” Cole muttered, trying to throw in enthusiasm to his sad, uninterested tone. However, being who he was, he could not mask his feelings easily. Misako frowned, concerned for the distressed teen.

“How is Zane?” She asked lightly, putting the hat back in its place. Cole visibly tensed at this question, the nindroid’s condition hitting a nerve.

“He’s… Dealing with his condition fairly well, actually. Too well. I don’t think he understands what ‘not being able to be fixed’ actually means.” Cole responded, a grim smile on his face. They could always count on Zane to completely under-react.

There was a silence between the two of them. Cole followed Misako out of the hat store, and then into the jewelry vendor next door.

“I think he  _ does _ understand, Cole. He’s a smart boy. It’s more that he’s not afraid.” She told him as she looked at a small, dainty pair of earrings. Cole’s brow furrowed at this, confused by what the women said.

“How could he not be afraid? He may never be able to walk ag-” Cole started, getting worked up once more over the state of his crush.

“He isn’t afraid, because he has you.” Misako explained. She smiled sweetly, and walked further into the shop, leaving Cole to ponder this.

Was he really all that important to Zane? So important that his simple presence was enough to rid all fear that the teen had? Important enough to outweigh the hopeless feelings that come with never being able to talk again?

A small blush creeped up on his dark cheeks, his heart beating slightly faster at the notion he meant something to Zane. Something more than a best friend, maybe even something more than strong platonic feelings…

Cole stopped himself, then and there, his eyes growing wide in shock. He couldn’t allow such hopes to cloud his vision, such thoughts to infest his mind. There was no way Zane could return his feelings, there was no way Zane could even have those feelings for another. Zane, he knew for a fact, would only ever be a really close friend. Cole’s heart was to be broken, and the elemental master of earth knew it would do him no good to put in any implication that his feelings could be returned. Living in such a fairy-tale world as this would do him no good.

He knew from experience. He knew from experience it would only hurt him to wish or hope.

He always used to do this. He always used to wish and hope for things that were not possible, or would never happen. He would wish for his mother, and her sweet embraces that he barely remembered. He had wished, at one time, that his father would accept him for who he was, instead of pushing for the dancer that Cole knew he did not possess inside him.

These wishes and hopes, with each day they had passed without being fulfilled, felt like lashes at his heart. Every night, as a child, he would go to sleep, knowing there was something he desperately wanted, that seemed impossible, despite his friends possessing exactly what he wanted. And most every night, as a child, he would cry himself to sleep, his wishes and hopes causing aching pains to his weak heart.

Cole could already feel the aching pains, he could already feel the weight that his heart carried, from knowing that his love would never be returned. They were nothing more than brothers, and that was all they were ever going to be. His own imagination had spun images of smiles and kisses, creating stories and scenes that were never to happen, just for the purpose to spite him. And now the thought that Zane could like Cole… The thought that those dreams could become a reality…

It felt like the strongest lash to the heart he had ever felt before. It stung and bled, reminding Cole over and over that the man he was falling for, the man he was willing to give his life for, was experiencing a spiraling depression. The man he loved was to be hooked up to an outlet for the rest of his life.

Sudden rain drops fell onto his cheeks, causing him to jump in shock, thrusting him back into reality. He blinked his eyes rapidly, staring up at the sky to find it a perfect light blue, not a storm cloud in sight. Cole sighed as he realized the raindrops were tears, and he quickly wiped his eyes on his shirt, not wanting anyone to see him cry. Crying warranted attention, and attention was the last thing Cole needed at that time.

All he wanted was to be back at the monastery, to his bed with Zane in his arms. Protecting Zane. Supporting Zane. Doing anything he could to help Zane, to make him happy when happiness wasn’t easy to find.

All he needed was Zane.

Cole looked back into the jewelry store, looking for Misako to see if she was watching. She was nowhere in sight, having disappeared into the depths of temptation, not likely to come out for some time. She wouldn’t mind if Cole left for the monastery without her, he knew this. She was smart, she would know he had headed back home, not being able to handle being outside, in a world he had destroyed with his rage.

Silently, but swiftly, he jogged away, his feet grinding against the gravel market streets, kicking up dust in his wake. The feeling of running energized him, encouraged him to become one with the earth as he had learned to do. His element coursed through him, his inhuman strength producing longer strides. He began to jog faster and faster, until he was sprinting, running towards the monastery that held the only thing he cared about.

His happiness rose as he sprinted, exerting himself in something he felt confident with. A smile crept onto his face, and he rode with the earth, his feet moving along it’s surface in a perfect harmonious accord.

And then, as he approached the gigantic wooden doors of the monastery, slowing to a halt so as to not crash and reduce the doors to splinters, he heard it. A scream most blood curdling, sounding loud from the open balcony of Zane’s room.

“HOLY-” Zane shouted, his voice carrying out of the open balcony, reaching its chilling fingers down Cole’s spine, creating a shiver of fear that reverberated through his whole being. The silence that followed was ominous, too quiet for his liking.

Quickly, Cole burst through the monastery doors, the doors flying open in urgency as he barreled in through the front doors. The doors smacked against the walls by the sheer force of the earth elemental, and were left swinging open, as Cole bounded up the stairs, taking two steps at a time.

The panic was bubbling in him, consuming his every thought, muddling his brain into a sloppy mess. All he was aware of was the beats of his racing heart, the ragged breaths he drew as the fear of something he wasn’t quite aware of overcame him. 

He could hear quiet voices coming from their room towards the end of the hall. Were they Zane’s murderers? He didn’t care. He wasn’t thinking straight. He wasn’t being sneaky or strategic like he had been taught to be. He, instead, was running through the halls, the wood floor rocking violently with his large and heavy steps.

His hand grabbed the handle and threw it open, his heart pounding in his chest with the overwhelming feeling of fear.

And there he found Jay Walker and Cyrus Borg, their mouths open in surprise, and their eyes filled with guilt. Cole was about to ask just what exactly had he caught them in the middle of, when his eyes traveled to Zane’s bed.

Zane lay there, a content smile on his face. The hatch on his torso was open wide, showcasing his inner workings to the people present in the room. The cord that had been attached to his neck had fallen to the ground, forgotten and unnecessary. 

“We can explain.” Jay said immediately, holding up his hands in defense. Cole looked at him in confusion, his green eyes flickering between the three people in the room as he tried to piece together the puzzle before him.

At the sound of Jay’s voice, Zane’s had turned to the side, his bright icy eyes locking with Cole’s. The tall man gasped, staring at Zane’s eyes. They were back to their lively, shocking color, the striking icy blue that captured every person that dared to look into them.

Zane watched the surprise form on Cole’s face, the man who thought he would never see Zane back to his old self again. He loved watching the man’s face transform, watching his eyes grow wider, and his light brown lips falling open into a satisfying “o”. He studied Cole’s physic, never have looked at it before in such fascination. The long black, windswept hair, that graced his face and tickled at his cheeks and ears. The broad shoulders, that suggested strength, stature, and warming hugs. The dark toned skin, an earthy tone that seemed soft and warm. His calloused fingers, which, for some reason, Zane found just as fascinating as everything else.

Zane smiled sweetly as he realized how long he had felt for Cole, how long he had thought such thoughts without feelings. Such feelings being stored in some compartment, awaiting to be released.

Cole’s heart fluttered wildly as the other graced him with such a soft, sweet smile. His face grew hot, his stomach flipping happily at the angelic smile.

“I am okay, Cole. I am okay.” Zane said, still smiling brightly at his leader.

Cole’s stomach dropped. 

He reassessed the situation. Jay and Cyrus staring up at Cole, their expressions filled to the brim with guilt. Zane’s hatch open, exposing the buttons and switches that should never be messed with. That should never be used to take advantage of Zane, and create artificial feelings he wasn’t supposed to have. 

His surprise turned to anger, his green eyes growing dark as the puzzle pieces clicked loudly in his mind.

“What did you do.” Cole growled, gritting his teeth at the two inventors before him.

“Cole-” Zane began, sitting up on his elbows, his smile quickly turning into a frown.

“What did you press? What did you do to him?” Cole spat, clenching his fists in frustration. How could they have not talked to him first? They knew he would not have been okay with this.

“It was the only way he could be fixed, Cole!” Jay snapped back, his electric blue eyes crackling with energy, “Aren’t you glad he’s better?”

Cole glared down at the floor, mentally burning holes through the woodwork in his frustration. There was a reason that Cole was upset. A reason as to why, even though Zane was now fixed, that Cole did not like.

It was his hope. His hope, even though he tried his best to do away with such thoughts, that Zane liked him back. That Zane had the same feelings for Cole, but only that they were blocked by one of his switches. That, if his switches were activated, their life would suddenly become some fantasy world, in which Zane and Cole would confess their love and then kiss under the moon.

By turning those switches on, by unblocking Zane’s hidden feelings, there was no longer that hope. It was obvious to Cole that Zane had experienced no change in emotion, no shift in his feelings towards him. All dreams, all theories that they could have a future together, were gone.

He mentally chastised himself. This was not how a best friend was supposed to react. Zane was back, he was alive and well. He could talk, he could smile; it was a miracle that Cole thought he would never witness.

“He’s not fully fixed,” Cyrus said, as if he were trying to calm the leader down, “Zane will still have trouble walking, or physically exerting himself. But for now, he isn’t on a power source, and that’s better than it was an hour or so ago.”

Cole nodded, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to release the tension he was feeling. His reaction was childish, he knew this. His hopes and dreams were built on no foundation of truth. He envied Zane, and how well the man was able to mask his feelings with such perfection.

“May I have some time alone with Cole? I have a feeling we have a lot to talk about.” Zane said from the bed. Cole looked up from the floor, and the icy blues immediately clashed with his emerald greens.

Jay and Cyrus left as per Zane’s request, moving out of the room with a swiftness only they could posses. Zane watched their backs recede until they closed the door shut behind them, the wheels of Mr. Borg’s wheelchair creaking against the wood. 

“Zane-” Cole started, before Zane interrupted quickly.

“Come closer please. And if you wouldn’t mind, would you also close my abdomen? I am starting to feel quite airy inside.” Zane said, his soft rich voice filling the silence in the room. The corners of Cole’s lips twitched, as he found amusement in Zane’s subtle, dry humor. The black haired man moved forward and did as the robot asked, closing the hatch with a silent click. Cole tried not to linger, he tried not to think of the cool skin under his fingertips. But his body betrayed him, bringing about a hot feeling to his face.

“You’re temperature levels are rising. Are you alright?” Zane asked, a smug look playing on his face. Cole’s eyes widened slightly. Smug? Had Zane just… performed the art of innuendos, an art that only Kai could perfect? 

His brain yelled at him, a jumping, crazy ruckus occurring in the depths of his thoughts. Was Zane implying he was blushing because of the shirtless figure in front of him? Was he implying that he understood what was going on inside Cole’s head?

“Shut up,” was the only thing the elemental master of earth could say, his brain hardly capable of muttering anything else.

Zane chuckled at this, knowing he had silenced his leader, throwing him into a jumbled mess of thoughts. He was still not quite sure as to what Cole’s feelings were about him, but teasing had never hurt anyone.

But they needed to talk. All humor aside, there were things that needed to be talked about. Tough things, things that brought pain to the heart and tears to the eyes. Zane sighed, as he felt his grin slide off his face. As to how this conversation would go, he did not know. But it had to be had, whether it felt uncomfortable or not.

“In all seriousness,” Zane said, sitting up for the first time without the need of help, “We need to talk.”

Cole nodded silently, and sat down on the bed with Zane. There was so much left unsaid, so many things that Cole had thought he would never be able to talk about with Zane again. Things he had regretted not talking about before Zane’s shutdown, where there was a possibility they could never talk again.

The bed creaked with Cole’s weight as he lifted his legs up onto the bed. The two teens were now facing each other, staring right into each other’s eyes with an intense sincerity.

“Cole. The day my father died… What you had walked in on..” Zane started, not letting go of the contact they were holding.

“You were about to kill yourself, weren’t you?” Cole said, finishing the teen’s thought. There was a silence, as both men reflected on that night. Cole could still feel a violent shiver run down his spine, remembering the fear he had experienced when he had seen Zane’s hands wrapped around his own wires. When Zane’s eyes had been glowing red, as if the emergency lights were going off in his system.

“Yes,” Zane responded in a flat tone, “I attempted suicide.”

Cole could feel his eyes sting as Zane stated this. It scared him. It scared him that Zane could easily admit what he had been about to do, that he had been about to take his own life. It scared him that Zane kept to himself, and that if Cole had been too late… If Cole had walked in a minute later… He would have been surprised to find Zane’s dead body. He would have been surprised by the unknown anguish his teammate was feeling, he would have been surprised to learn about the inner turmoil Zane was experiencing. Cole would have been one of those stereotypical people who talked at their friend’s funeral, swearing up and down in their speech that “Zane had been the happiest person he ever knew”, and that “no one knew Zane was so sad”.

He didn’t want to be that person. He didn’t want to be in the dark. He didn’t want to be a minute late, or be scared of ever being a minute late.

It felt selfish. It felt selfish to want to be there for Zane, to be knowing of all that went on in the boy’s mind. It felt as though Zane’s eyes should be the ones that were stinging. Zane should be the one crying, not Cole.

“Cole.” Zane managed, his voice soft and cracked. Cole looked through his blurring eyes, coming to reality as the teen called for his attention. He tried to blink his eyes, to keep the tears in, to keep them from escaping. He didn’t want to cry. He couldn’t. He needed to be strong for Zane.

“W-what if I… What if I had been too late?” Cole managed, his bottom lip trembling. He bit it, trying to cause pain in order to stop his tears from flowing. It helped nothing, and before he could realize, he was crying in front of Zane, tears streaming down his face, an unstoppable flow of salty tears.

Zane reached forward for Cole, and wrapped his arms tightly around his leader. His leader, who had done so much for him. Who had been there for him for so long, and in the process of doing so, had bottled in more feelings than he already did every day. Cole had done so much, had circled his whole world around Zane without hesitation.

The teen pulled Cole into his lap and held him tight. He burrowed his face in the soft black hair, and his pale hand ran up and down Cole’s back, trying to comfort the person that had dedicated so much to Zane.

“It’s... It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to cry.” Zane mumbled into Cole’s hair, feeling sadness soak into his heart. He had not cried for days. Cole had cried for him, taking on the grief that was not meant to be his. All for Zane. He had brought himself into sadness, all for his friend who had attempted suicide.

And then Zane was crying too. Crying into the soft black hair, no longer stroking Cole’s back, but gripping onto the man’s shirt for support. They were a mess. A ball of crying and breaking, healing from pain they had kept to themselves for so long. Healing from pain that they hadn’t been aware they still harbored.

There was no where else in the world in that moment. The world stopped, and the two boys on the bed were the only things existing. Their tears became the only sounds in the universe, the smells of the other became the only thing they were aware of. 

Their universe, on that morning, became meant for two people, not just one. Their tears stained each other’s shirts, but even when the tears stopped, they still clung to each other. They needed the other like they needed air, they needed each other in order to ever feel better; to ever feel complete again.

Their distressed breathing fell in sync, matching to the other until their breathing slowly normalized. Before they were aware of what was going on, their intertwined figures fell down onto the bed, until they were in a comfortable mass of tangled limbs. Their eyes began to feel heavy, but they still gripped each other tight, as if to make sure the other didn’t fall apart into pieces beside them. It was as if they were holding the pieces of the other together.

That’s how Garmadon found them. Asleep and dreaming, dried tracks of tears tracing down their cheeks. The man walked into the room quietly, and pulled the blanket over them, that had been pushed to the end of the bed in all of the uncontrolled emotion. Once they were covered, Garmadon left the room, turning off the lights as he left, and letting alone the two boys to their own universe.

The wood halls creaked under the man's feet. The monastery was quiet, as if it had been listening to the two teens, eavesdropping from the dark wood. The creaky steps sounded loud in such silence, and Garmadon winced with each step he took.

“Garmadon?” A silent voice asked from downstairs in the dining hall. He smiled to himself, as his ears perked to the sound of the soft voice of his wife. He had missed her. And for the longest time, he believed he never deserved her again. After his many attempts to defeat his brother and his pupils, after the many attempts of killing his own son, after the attempts he had made to break his own wife; and yet they were all still here. They were all still accepting of him, caring for him even. It felt unreal, it felt unprecedented, to be still wanted, after all he had done.

“Yeah?” He answered back, walking down the stairs with his hand drifting down the railing.

“It’s your brother. Something’s going on.” Misako said. Garmadon’s brow furrowed, and he walked slightly faster down the stairs. His younger brother only called when it was something important, when it was something of concern. Wu didn’t like to use phones, and when he did, it was for good reason.

Garmadon reached the bottom of the stairs, and approached his wife, who was holding out the silver flip phone for him to take. He did just this, wrapping his hand around the phone, and bringing it up to his ear.

“Hello?” Garmadon answered, frowning at Misako in confusion.

“Brother, get Jay and Mr. Borg down here at once please. We need them back. Misako told me my pupil is better. You should be able to part with the two inventors, yes?” Wu said, an urgency clear in his voice.

“What’s happened? What’s going on?” Garmadon asked, his heart and lungs feeling heavy. He knew this feeling well. It was the feeling of fear, the feeling of knowing something was coming. It was the fear of what was to happen next.

“Something happened to the construction site. Overnight, the beams became rusty and broken, as if they have been there for hundreds of years. The city civilians are afraid, and so are Mr. Borg’s construction workers…” Wu explained. Garmadon frowned. This was, of course, not normal behavior for a metal. Something was definitely wrong with the situation.

“You are hiding something else from me.” Garmadon stated, as he noticed Wu was not following his train of thought. The younger brother sighed from the other end of the phone, and Garmadon braced himself for the news.

“There have been… reports.” Wu said, hesitation heavy in his voice.

“Reports of what? Brother, what is going on?” Garmadon asked, fear seeping into his skin.

“The dead… People are reporting the dead coming back to life.”

 

* * *

 

He had forgotten how good it felt to be solid. How good it felt to actually feel what he was touching, to smell the air, to taste delicious food. It was paradise for him, a paradise he had missed for twenty years. The senses were something many took for granted, and only after regaining them did Morro realize how beautiful it all was

But what was even more beautiful than his revived senses, was his new and improved powers. In some way, unknown to Morro, his powers had become stronger with the dark matter that he had consumed at the Overlord’s suggestion. He now could do more than just control the wind. He could control life, or more accurately, death. A dark energy that was much more powerful than anything he had ever experienced before. Such energy was coursing heavily in his veins, pumping a higher level of control through every pore of his body. He felt invincible with such power, he felt  _ godlike _ , as he learned the lengths of his new power.

A new power which, if he used it right, could be used to defeat the green ninja.

With such a strong power as this darkness, he could defeat Lloyd quickly. There would be no stopping him from draining the power from Lloyd, taking it for his own in a quick and easy fashion. Nothing would be able to get in his way, nothing would be able to restrain him from his goal. His goal of taking rightful place as the hero of Ninjago. His goal of becoming the green ninja, a spot of which he was always supposed to take. The spot of which he had been promised by, from the old man Wu. The spot he was  _ made _ to take.

Morro had already tried to test such powers out, such as sapping power from a regular, non-elemental human in a random dark alley. It had not succeeded, and the newly-solid Morro had had to run away before the human could call for help. Morro knew he needed to be stronger. He needed more dark energy in order to accomplish what he wanted to do. But there was no more Overlord. There was no more Overlord to tell him where more dark remnants resided, where he could soak even more power into himself. Where he could become even more powerful, powerful enough to reach well beyond his original elemental limits.

However, there was someone else. Another person that was aware of where the Overlord had been. Another person other than the Overlord himself, that could find and see where the dark matter lay. A person that Morro just so happened to personally hold a grudge against. After all, this person had once been his role model.

The ghost of the first spinjitzu master, the creator of Ninjago. Only through his guidance could Morro achieve what he wanted. Only through the dead man’s wisdom could he find more dark matter.

It was to be a bittersweet moment, if Morro did succeed in raising the dead man from his grave. A man who, instead of granting his powers to Morro as he should have, granted them to his relative; a grandson, many generations between them. A waste of powers, that Morro was certain the first spinjitzu master regretted, now that he had seen who was the more powerful of the two.

Walking to the grave of the old man felt oddly calming for the man with long black hair. It felt almost refreshing, as if his mind and soul had been waiting for this very moment. The sky was an eerie grey, that promised rain and thunder. But this did not bother Morro anymore. Water did not harm him, seeing as he was solid once more. If he had still been a ghost, he would have been destroyed by the liquid. Liquid effected ghosts, seeing as how they were neither solid or gas. Ghosts were a suspension of matter, and liquid was the only thing they were not made out of. Therefore, liquid was the only thing that they could not touch without getting harmed.

But he had no concern about this anymore. In honesty, he wanted it to rain. He wanted to feel the water pour down his head, to feel the rain stick his black shirt to his back. Morro grinned in a somewhat haphazard fashion, and threw off his sandals, flinging them into the grass. 

Immediate gratification hit him, and he sighed in relief as the rich dirt dug itself between his toes. He could not get enough of his senses, he could not get enough of every touch he could encounter, every smell he could register, every taste he could feel settle on his tongue.

A thunder clap brought him back to the task at hand, bringing him back from his obsession with his sensory capabilities. His focus turned back to the grave stone in front of him. A gravestone that was greatly weathered by the elements, so much so that it had been run down to a fragile slab of mossy grey. His stomach flipped as he dug his toes into the dirt above the powerful dead master’s pile of bones, just as one may bury their toes under the sand at a beach. The gravity of what was about to happen was making him excited, nervous even. His life had lead up to this moment, that much he knew.

He took a deep inhale, and aimed his hand down towards the ground underneath him. He had to concentrate, he had to believe he could do this. He had to believe in himself, because no one ever believed in him. He had to do this on his own, to accomplish this without defeat. He had to overcome. He could bring back the dead.

“I raise you from your rest, old man. Leave your peace and tell me all that you know.” Morro announced, before casting his dark power out in a beam of dark purple at the grave, the beam shooting out through his hand.

Suddenly, Morro’s arm felt on fire. A blood curdling scream ripped through his throat as a white searing pain gripped his arm, clutching so tightly it felt as though Morro’s bone should be broken. The pain dared Morro to stop the beam, dared him to lose his resolve and cease his effort. But Morro couldn’t give up. He could not give in.

With another scream in pain, he gripped his arm with his other hand, steadying it so it would not move from it’s position. His pain turned to rage, his green eyes literally glowing with the determination and power that was coursing through his veins. He would not succumb to the pain. He would rise to the challenge, and he would prevail.

“Rise old man! Face me!” Morro screamed through clenched teeth and agony, his jaw beginning to protest by how hard he was clenching it, “I order you! YOU ARE AT MY MERCY!”

The ground began to shake in a violent manner, and Morro watched in horror as the white hot clenching grasp on his arm materialized into a green, transparent hand. Morro followed the materialization of the ghost body, watching as an arm began to appear out of what seemed to be thin air. There was no hesitation from Morro, however. No fear graced his face as the figure formed. Morro knew what was occurring at that moment, he knew what was truly happening. His powers were working. This was the ghost of the first spinjitzu master.

The arm formed into a torso, and then a head. And then the piercing, green ghost eyes clashed with Morro’s, anger rampant in the dead man’s glare. Morro glared back, despite the grip of the ghost’s hand clenching tighter around his wrist. Morro wanted to scream out in pain, he wanted to fall to the ground in a writhing mess. But he had to show strength. He could not let fear or pain show.

“Do not do this.” The ghost seethed, his voice dark and gravely, and yet far away, as though his essence was barely in tact.

“You will… Listen to me.” Morro managed, gasping as the beam from his hand suddenly stopped. The ghost of the first spinjitzu master left go of his firm grip on Morro, and the boy fell to the ground, panting and gasping at the major feat he had just overcame. 

The ghost floated back and forth, as if in an agitated pace. Morro took those few seconds to observe the undead master. The eyes were sunken in, and his facial features were shallow and tight, as if his skin was tightly pulled against his skull. His arms were thin and bony like his face, as if the skin was barely holding on, about to snap back from how stretched it was around his bones.

The ghost was bald, and had a thin, unwashed looking beard, striking an uncanny similarity to the beards of wizards Morro had read about when he was younger.

“I am not supposed to be here. This is wrong.” The ghost mumbled, before throwing back his head and releasing a painful moan, as if it was hurting him to be among the living once more. Morro grimaced, disgusted by the sound, and pushed himself off of the ground

“Tell me all you know of dark matter.” Morro ordered, wincing slightly at how his voice shaked, still uneasy from the pain.

The ghost whipped around to face Morro, a frenzy ablaze in his eyes. Before Morro could react, the ghost was teleported right in front of Morro’s face.

“I need-” Morro tried again, but was suddenly interrupted by a high scream, a sound kin to that of a disturbed ghost in a horror film.

“Gah!” Morro exclaimed, throwing his hands up to his ears and wincing, the shrieking loud enough to impair his hearing abilities. The shrieking continued for a couple seconds or so, when it stopped abruptly. Morro lowered his hands from his ears. He watched with confusion, observing as the ghost went to hover above his grave again, floating back and forth in an agitated walk.

“There are consequences to this… The world will experience great death. And great life.” The ghost muttered in a broken fashion, his voice drifting in and out in a curious way. Morro wanted to say something, but he feared that if he were to say something again, he would be screamed at. Instead, Morro kept quiet, listening intently to the cryptic words.

“There will be an army. An army with unknown loyalties, if I grant you the knowledge you seek. An army, of which could destroy you or bring you victory. To bring back the dead for knowledge that should not be relevant for today’s world… You are invoking imbalance. You are destroying the balance of the world in your haste for power, to be something you were not meant to be. Your mass amount of death will bring about mass amounts of life. This can only cause chaos. You will be your undoing.” The ghost explained, his voice strained as if he did not want to tell Morro this. The agitated figure looked angry, striking fear deep into Morro’s bones. But Morro had to prevail. His victory he had fantasized for so long about was finally in his reach.

“Tell me where I can find the dark remnants, dead man.” Morro ordered. The ghost groaned a sigh, and stared Morro straight in the eyes, with the same furious anger as the first glare they had shared.

“You were never meant to be the ultimate elemental master. I knew this was bound to occ-”

“TELL ME!” Morro interrupted, anger and desperation beginning to boil over. He needed his answer, no matter what the costs. He didn’t want to hear the dead man’s reasoning behind his decision. Morro would be fixing it soon enough, with his own agenda this time. It no longer mattered who he was to blame the fault on. He was going to fix it himself, and force destiny to choose him as the all-powerful master of elements.

“The isle of darkness,” the ghost gasped, as if it pained him to say it, “That is where you will find your power. Do not summon me again.”

The ghost disappeared then, fizzling out into the particles of the air. Morro shivered as a wind howled from far away. There was no elation from the information he had just received. He was not feeling regret, no. He could not feel regret for something that felt so right. No, this was a fear of instinctual levels. There was only dread at the pit of his stomach. A dread that he felt as the wind blew past him. An unruly wind, that conveyed a chaotic happening on the way.

The army of the dead was coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I PROMISE THERE WILL BE LOTS OF FLUFF IN THE NEXT CHAPTER  
> Damn this chapter was taxing to write XD lots of angst. I will fix this in next chapter, I swear!  
> Also, Zane with the innuendo? GOD, I am having too much fun XD  
> I love you all!!! Thank you for all of your support!!


	12. Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the two ninja impatiently wait for news back from the team and Wu, feelings and hopes slowly start to form between Cole and Zane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE BROUGHT TO YOU THE NEXT CHAPTER  
> EVEN THOUGH YOU WEREN'T EXPECTING IT  
> I JUST LOVED THIS CHAPTER TOO MUCH TO WITHHOLD IT FROM YOU  
> I HOPE YOU ALL LIKE IT

Zane couldn’t remember at what time he had woken up that evening, awakening to the tangled nap that he and Cole had created. He could not recall how long he had been awake, staring at the other man’s face, tracing every curve and edge in the dark. It felt almost forbidden, the way the nindroid was gazing so intently and hungrily at Cole. He felt like he was breaking some rule, some code, by memorizing those lips like he was, looking upon them as if he was kissing them with his stare.

He felt dirty, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help looking at Cole in such a longing manner. He couldn’t help wondering what that face would feel like under his cold fingertips, what those lips would feel like upon his own. 

He couldn’t help wanting something that was so unattainable.

Zane had never really understood love before, in the romantic sense. He had never comprehended the need to place one’s lips upon another's, and he had certainly never understood physical feelings that went beyond those of mutual friendship. Now, however, he could sense other foreign forces pulling on his wires, sending him down different paths of “love” that confused him and excited him.

Here, in the dark, sleeping next to someone he yearned for, he knew how painful love was. Here, where he was left to only memorization, where lips were inches apart and arms were touching and legs were tangled; and yet Cole was too far to touch. Too far to kiss. Forbidden fruit to pull at the robot, marionette strings of love to dance his limbs around in a tangle of defeat.

It made sense now to him. The jealousy that he had felt when Cole dreamt of someone else in their bed, the fact that Zane saw it as “their” bed, the occurrence that Zane could not sleep without Cole being present with him; he had been loving Cole for a while now, without even realizing the symptoms.

Not for the first time, Zane cursed his existence as a robot. If only he had been human, would he have realized what was happening. If only he had been aware enough to be able to stop such an occurrence from intensifying. If only he had been smart enough to avoid falling in love with his friend.

A sudden shift in the bed startled Zane, bringing him back from his dazed dreaming. His eyes focused on Cole once more, as the teen flopped around, coming closer to Zane with a lazy speed.

Zane’s heart burst into a gallop as Cole snuggled closer, noses bumping for a couple of seconds before temptingly parting connection. He cursed Jay for ever turning on such a mind-altering emotion. All his mind could focus on was the hot puffs of air that left Cole’s warm brown lips and landed Zane’s pale ones, the dark long eyelashes that softly graced shadows on the teen’s cheeks, the ears that appeared from beneath long, soft black hair… Hair asking to be caressed and touched and gripped onto...

“Are you boys awake yet?” Misako called from the living room, her voice bounding gallantly up the stairs, through the crack of the bedroom door, and shattering all peace that the boys were experiencing.

Cole awoke with a spasm, slamming his forehead into Zane’s with a force only the elemental master of earth could achieve, triggering curse words to flow out of the nindroid’s mouth.

“Oh crap Zane, you alright?” Cole mumbled in a husky, sleep-induced voice, that brought Zane images that did not help his current state of mind. All he could muster was a weak grunt of forgiveness in response, holding his head as if it hurt to give him an excuse not to look into Cole’s eyes. If he did, he knew he would get hopelessly lost in them.

Cole sat up, running his hands through his hair as he eyed the clock. They had slept through the morning, and it was now 3 o’clock. Cole groaned as his head hit the pillow once more.

“Gods, we have to stop going into beds together. We keep falling asleep,” Cole mumbled, chuckling slightly and rubbing his eyes as he did so. Zane stilled, his eyes widening in horror at his body’s reaction, reacting to the thought of falling into bed without going to sleep. 

Suddenly, without warning, Zane violently began flailing, scrambling madly to get out of bed, throwing covers off of them with a speed only the inhuman could posses. Limbs smacked as the teen crawled over Cole with a wild fear, kneeing him in the stomach in the process.

“Ow, Zane! What the heck?” Cole exclaimed as he clenched his abdomen, Zane’s only response being wild gasps as he tumbled out of the bed, feet landing on the wooden floor as he quickly stood up.

Zane’s intention was to run to his dresser, grab a change of clothes, and rush himself into the bathroom for a freezing cold shower. However, he forgot about Cyrus Borg’s words of caution concerning his weakened limbs. And so, when Zane took the first leap towards a change of clothes, his legs collapsed beneath him, giving up on him quickly without even attempting to support him.

Cole watched as Zane crumpled to the ground like a sad, uncoordinated baby animal. Cole would have been laughing at the scene, if Zane had not been having so much trouble with his body as of late.

“Zane!” Cole exclaimed, trying to hurtle out off the bed to help Zane up. He, of course, forgot about the blankets wrapped tightly around his legs, and Cole too fell hard onto the floor, joining the other teen.

Cole groaned in pain at the impact of his body to the hard floor, marking the moment as one of the most un-ninja things he had ever done. If Sensei could see him now, Cole was certain the old man would revoke his title as leader of the elite ninja team.

“We are such a mess,” the nindroid mumbled to the ground. Cole spit out a laugh that he hadn’t known he’d been holding back, and before either of them could help it, they were laughing uncontrollably into the hardwood floor. They lay unmoving from their positions on the floor, the strong laughter that was holding them with a tight grip refusing to let them move.

This is what Misako opened the bedroom door to, alarmed by the loud thumps she had heard from downstairs. Two teenage boys, strewn across the floor, laughing loudly into the hardwood. A completely different scene than the one downstairs; hectic, afraid, and glum.

“Zane? Cole? Are you two alright?” Misako asked, breaking their bubble once more.

Cole tried to get up, his arms weak and trembling as he gasped for air, waves of laughter threatening to topple him over. His face was red from the effort of holding back his rampant happiness.

“Sorry Misako, I guess Cole and I just needed a laugh,” Zane explained, still unmoving, yet smiling all the same. Misako did not smile back, however. She had a grim shadow about her, as if there was some unspeakable taboo that she was holding inside her, wanting to escape her mouth in words.

“Misako?” Cole asked, now sitting upright on the floor, smiles erased and humor lost. Her gaze turned to his, and she gave him a sad smile.

“You both should get downstairs. You need to hear this,” Misako said, before turning away, and heading down the hallway, before disappearing down the staircase. The boys sat silent and in shock where she had left them. The only time she had ever looked so grim was back when she had to fight her deranged husband. And even then, she hadn’t looked  _ that _ afraid.

Cole got up and walked silently over to Zane, helping the ninja’s unresponsive body up. In any other situation, Zane would have been short circuiting from the way Cole was holding him. One rough hand gripped Zane’s hip tightly, and the other held his arm over Cole’s shoulder. But by the way Misako had looked, there was no time to become flustered over the close proximity. Something bad was happening, and they both knew the peace they had fought for against the Overlord would not last for much longer.

* * *

 

“The dead coming back to life? Are you serious?” Cole barked, in what seemed to be frustration, “Didn’t we  _ just _ defeat an evil entity a couple of weeks ago?” Sensei Garmadon grimaced as he looked down at his clasped hands. They were sitting around the dining table, excluding Misako, who was in her room, calling each and every one of her scientist friends, trying to come up with some sort of answer. Cole glanced at Zane, trying to find any reaction from the man. However, Zane was still slumped in his chair, his head lolling sleepily to the side. It had taken a great deal of energy to move from the bedroom, down the hallway, down the stairs, and to the dining table. Even though Cole had carried him most of the way there, it seemed as though Zane was out cold from the physical exertion.

“I am quite serious, Cole. I haven’t the faintest clue as to what’s going on,” the newly appointed Sensei mumbled, “There has never once, in the history of Ninjago, been a ghostly uprising such as this. Misako is stumped, there is no prophecy of any sort, and this certainly goes beyond anything I’ve ever encountered.”

Cole groaned in frustration, and massaged his temples. After being part of a famous group of heros for so many years, it became exhausting when the peace they fought for time and time again didn’t last very long.

“There must be some logical explanation,” Zane whispered in his chair, his eyes still closed and his body still looking very much out of his control, “Creatures do not appear without something, or someone, making them do so.”

Sensei Garmadon nodded in agreement, but still looked down at his hands, as if speaking to them made thinking easier, “The only place they could have come from is the Cursed Realm, but that hasn’t opened since-”

“A  _ realm _ ?” Cole sputtered, surprise and anger playing on his face, “Since _ when _ were there other realms?”

“You didn’t know?” Garmadon responded in surprise, looking at the two boys in confusion. Zane’s eyes fluttered open, and glanced at Cole with the same look of annoyance.

“Why does it always feel like Misako and Wu never tell us anything until we’re in the middle of it?” Zane mumbled, sighing before closing his eyes again and sitting back in his chair once more.

“I can’t imagine why they didn’t tell you,” Garmadon mumbled to himself, before looking back up at the boys, “There are sixteen realms, and we may go over them all, if we ever find the time to. One of these realms is called the Cursed Realm. This is where all the cursed and banished souls go to, taking form as a ghost during their stay.”

Cole looked at the sensei with wide eyes. Never before had he imagined there would be places other than Ninjago. He glanced over to Zane, who was now hunched over in his chair, looking down at the table in confusion.

“But Sensei Garmadon, how can the dead be turning back the clock?” Zane asked, concern written in his furrowed eyebrows, “There are reports of seeing loved ones, are there not? Why are the dead arising, if all that we are supposed to be seeing are cursed souls?”

Cole’s head snapped to Garmadon, and for a few moments, they both exchanged a look of realization. It was not only the cursed souls that were being reported. Ghosts of family members were rising out of their graves to join the masses. Ghosts of people who were missed and who were loved. Such as mothers, daughters, uncles. Even recently lost fathers, who were loved very dearly by their robotic sons. 

If Zane were to run across his father during battle… Or, god forbid, have to fight Doctor Julien...

Zane watched their silent conversation with a watchful eye, his icy blues glinting in curiosity, “What-”

“It’s nothing,” Sensei Garmadon quickly said, hoping to rid Zane of his curiosity before his cogs turned the correct way, “For now, all we can do is sit and wait. Cyrus and Jay left this morning to be back with the team. We’ll have to wait for another call, in order to understand the situation completely.”

Both boys sighed. It was not like them to be away from the team. Especially not during the phase of figuring out what the hell was going on. Never once had Cole, or even Zane, been gone while a threat was descending upon Ninjago. It was an unpleasant existence of anxiety they were living in. And now, with Jay and Cyrus gone, they were sitting ducks, without a clue as to which way they wanted to go.

* * *

 

And that’s how they existed. For three whole days, they lived in anxiety. Sleep did not come easy, and each howl of the wind sounded like a ghost coming to haunt them. Most of their hours were spent sitting around Garmadon’s flip phone, waiting for a call. Waiting for  _ something _ .

Neither one of them had ever liked waiting around when a threatening evil was creeping slowly toward their beloved home. Hours upon hours of waiting was sure to make the two teens mad. Their bodies were meant for moving, their hearts were built (in Zane’s case, quite literally) to protect others. They were not built to sit and wait and keep still. Even Zane, in his weak state, could not stop the constant jittering movement of his leg, bouncing rapidly underneath the table they sat at now.

It was the horrible silence that got to Zane the most. Even when he had been unable to speak, and everything felt doomed, there had been noise to keep in company. Now, all there was was silence, the ticking of the hours echoing in their ears, the sight of the unresponsive grey phone sitting in the middle of the table, seared into their memories from staring at it for so long. 

Zane hated that grey phone. It felt as though it was laughing at them. Not a single notification in the past three days had been offered to them, and it felt like it was the phone’s fault. The same phone that had been used to call Cole at the construction site. The same phone that had whispered those horrible, horrible words. The devastating news about his father.

The nindroid’s head jerked slightly at the painful reminder of why he was at the monastery in the first place, and he looked away from the phone, as if it had called him a derogatory name. His eyes instead landed on Cole, whose darker skin looked flushed with impatience. His dark, thick eyebrows were pulled angrily over his emerald eyes, and he seemed to be trying to burn holes in the wood table with his glare. The tendons on his smooth arms were tensed, and his hands were wrapped in fists. His jaw was littered with unshaven black stubble, forgotten in the last few days in the frustrating haze.

Zane could almost touch the anger that was rolling off of the elemental master of earth. Cole, contrary to his belief, could not easily hide his feelings. They ran rampant around the room, full of meaning and effect on the people in the room. Zane could feel the emotions trying to seep into his skin, to poke and prod at the small amount of patience he had left.

He wanted to comfort Cole somehow. Give him some words of encouragement, promising they would hear from the others soon. But Cole didn’t need words. He needed a phone call from his team.

Zane attempted to raise his hand from his arm rest, his pale body trembling with the effort to use all of his strength to simply reach out and touch Cole. Just a touch to his shoulder, to give him some reminder that not all was lost. But Zane’s elastic bands in his back tensed, and his hand became heavy, and his gears groaned in disagreement until the robot gave up, letting his hand fall back down to it’s original resting place.

That is how Misako found the two teens that afternoon, three days after the call from Wu. There was Cole, angry and brooding, staring at the wood table as if it had killed his father. And there was Zane, whose body was limp, eyes were closed, and his face was turned to Cole, as if he had been observing him before his eyelids had become too heavy to hold up. They both looked tired, exhausted, and anxious, and Zane’s condition had gotten no better.

They looked defeated by a war that hadn’t even started.

“UP!” Misako barked, loud and commanding. Her voice pierced the silence, shattering the barrier that had been present for days. 

Zane’s eyes snapped open, his body flinching in shock at Misako’s sudden voice. The chair he was sitting in threatened to tip over from the sudden movement, but it did no such thing. Cole looked up at Misako, frustration gone from his features, instead having been replaced now by surprise. Cole’s heart leapt into his throat at Misako’s hard expression, which radiated annoyance and determination.

“I don’t know where your logic has gone,” Misako shot, hands set determined on her hips, anger seeping into her tone, “But it will do no good to sit around and do nothing. The least you could do is prepare for bad news, rather than mope around as if you were seven!”

Cole and Zane flicked glances at each other, both pairs of eyes wide and alarmed at the sudden outburst from the woman.

“Zane!” Misako barked, causing Zane’s head to whip around and face her, his afraid icy blues suddenly trapped in place by the woman’s brown ones, “Your condition has not gotten the least bit better, and I know for a fact sitting around won’t help your body regain its strength. What if you’re in a battle situation, and you can’t move? What if you can’t protect yourself? What are you going to do, play dead?!” Misako shouted in exasperation, a fire in her eyes. Zane broke the eye contact quickly, cowering, as much as his broken body could let him, in shame.

Her sharp gaze then changed to Cole, who was looking from Lloyd’s mother to Zane in shock, “And Cole! You are the leader, and you know that sitting around is the least logical thing you could be doing right now. You should be training, helping Zane, trying to research anything you can; Do  _ something _ ! The phone isn’t going to ring any faster with you staring at it like that,” Misako ridiculed, looking at the leader of the ninja with an expectant glare. Cole gnawed on his bottom lip and glanced at Zane, whose eyes flickered to Cole’s in a quick moment of shared emotion. Neither of them knew what to say. They knew they weren’t doing the best they could to help the situation, but they didn’t know how to respond to being yelled at like so. Instead, they didn’t say anything to each other, and only sat in shame as Misako turned into their unwanted mother figure.

“Well?” Misako barked, standing still for a couple of moments, before leaving the boys alone in the dining room, walking out the double doors to the world outside for some fresh air. They both watched her leave, the doors closing behind her until they were the only ones left in their monastery home. Cole shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with the odd silence she had left behind. He looked to Zane, who looked back at Cole, and then nodded, as if he was resolving to something.

“She is right,” Zane said, grunting as he tried to lift himself out of the chair. Cole was immediately at his side, giving the teen a shoulder to grab onto for balance, “We need to be doing things, not sitting around. If there is at all a chance that we can help our brothers, we have to keep up with our training.”

Cole gave the nindroid a silent nod in agreement, and stood still as he patiently waited for Zane to grab onto whatever he needed to, in order to achieve a somewhat stable balance. Over the past few days, Cole had become Zane’s means of transportation, the nindroid using him as something to lean on as his body slowly began to function again.

This is how they traveled to the town’s dojo, the broken nindroid using Cole as his crutch. The outside was harder to traverse on, uneven ground and loose rocks threatening Zane’s balance. People started, wondering what disease had gotten to the teen, and Cole received sympathetic smiles each time he caught Zane from falling forward. It was almost amusing, watching the townspeople come to conclusions about the situation without any context knowledge. 

Zane didn’t notice the looks he was receiving. It was something Cole admired, the teen’s indifference to what other people thought of him. It had never affected Zane, never caused him to think twice about a decision. The only person that doubted Zane, the only person that criticised him and caused him to feel insecure, was the nindroid himself.

The dojo they finally arrived at was empty. Silent and serene, with a promise that no one would interrupt their training. Bamboo mats covered the floor, and white stucco walls surrounded perimeter. Only one window was present, ensuring that no distractions would catch their eyes from the world outside.

“Where do you want to start?” Cole asked Zane, who was scanning the equipment while still gripping onto Cole’s body. The elemental master of earth was trying desperately to ignore the electric feeling that was permeating his skin. The chilling cold from Zane’s fingers felt heavenly against his warm skin, and the excited fluttering inside him was trying desperately to crawl it’s way up to his chest.

“The leg weights may be best for my condition,” Zane responded softly, bringing Cole out of his internal struggle. Now was not the time to pine after his friend, especially while his job was to help said nindroid.

As Zane situated himself in the leg training chair, Cole perusing the weight selection, trying to pick out a good starting weight to begin rehabilitation with.

“Does 50 sound good to you?” Cole questioned, running his fingers along the weights before meeting Zane’s striking blue eyes. He nodded, and Cole brought said weights over, placing them on the machine. He stepped back a few paces, and waited for Zane to begin, standing by incase the nindroid needed help.

After a moment or two, Cole looked up at Zane, wondering why the teen had not started lifting. Instead, Zane was straining, his eyes shut tight in concentration. The reason Zane had not started lifting the weights yet was because he  _ couldn’t _ .

Zane suddenly relaxed with a huff, and opened his eyes to look angrily up at Cole, “Are you going to stare at me the whole time I attempt to heal?”

Cole tried desperately to hide his wide grin at Zane’s frustration, and instead turned to a punching bag, pulling his eyes off the teen to allow him concentration.

But Zane could not concentrate. With Cole’s back turned to Zane, the teen could clearly see Cole’s highly attractive and enticing curves. A flex of a back muscle here, a tensing of a leg muscle there, and Zane forgot why he was there to begin with.

“You aren’t distracted,  _ are  _ you?” Cole said in the silence, never once looking over at the awestruck teen, and yet a knowing smirk was gracing his lips.

Zane cleared his throat and shook his head, looking down at his legs as he tried to flex them once more.

“Shut up,” Zane grunted, and Cole chuckled as he threw a particularly deadly punch at the bag hanging from the ceiling.

It was almost dark before they left the dojo, having spent hours upon hours training. By the end of it all, Zane had successfully lifted the 50 pound weight. Pride was obviously written across his smile, something Cole had not seen before. Thanks to Jay and the emotions he had activated, the leader could now enjoy seeing Zane happy and proud of his accomplishments. 

The walk back to the monastery was less trivial, and yet Zane kept a light touch of a hand to Cole’s now sore bicep. The electricity that ran through them both was not acknowledged, yet Cole had the hopeful suspicion that Zane’s feather-like touch to his skin had nothing to do with keeping his balance.

* * *

 

Cole and Garmadon couldn’t help but laugh at the scene of Misako and Zane cooking together. It was amusing to watch Zane drunkenly stumble about the kitchen in a vegetable-themed apron, and yet pull out a mouthwatering lasagna from the oven. Misako, on the other had, was trying her best to avoid colliding with Zane, moving constantly around Zane’s somewhat uncontrollable body. She had flour in her hair, as well did everyone else, when it was unspokenly decided that throwing flour at each other would lighten the mood and make them all forget about the impending doom. 

Needless to say, it had worked. Zane was smiling more than he had since his father had died, despite his subpar physical condition. His white hair was sticking out at odd angles. His forehead, neck, and fingers were haphazardly, yet beautifully, sprinkled with flour. His hearty laugh filled the room, and Cole could not take his eyes off the teen, no matter how hard he tried.

It was electric. That was the only word to describe the atmosphere. It was buzzing with something unreachable, and Zane’s eyes continuously locked onto Cole’s with an unrecognizable fever. 

The adults were not oblivious to the electricity flowing between them, like some rampant alcoholic connection. Their smiles were blinding, their burning glances were knowing, and the flinches both boys exhibited when they accidentally brushed shoulders left no secrets. The married couple kept their smirks to themselves, and shared amused glances as they remembered their teenage days. Such dark times were those, full to the brim with love triangles and hormones. After all the ninja had been through, after all that time that had been used for being heros, the boys deserved to have some time to experience the burning hormones that came with growing older.

That night, they carried their dinners outdoors, eating in the grass with a blanket spread beneath them. They ate in an energized silence, observing the world around them. The fireflies light up their excited faces in a magical, inviting way, and the air between the the teens was as electrical as ever.

And then there was a buzz. An undeniable, electronic buzz, sounding from the depths of Sensei Garmadon’s left pocket. The magic disappeared, the smiles were wiped off faces, and the calm turned to anxiety once more, as Garmadon fumbled for his phone.

They all watched as he answered it, watching in fright as the sensei’s expression went from anxiety to horror.

“It’s… Static,” Garmadon whispered, his throat closing in on his words, as fear overtook him.

Cole grabbed for the phone, ripping it out of Garmadon’s grasp, and pressed his ear to the speakers, “Hello? Sensei?! Kai?”

“Bzzzzzzzzzzz….. Buzz…. Shfttt….”

Now it was Zane who grabbed the phone. Cole looked to the other in anger, no longer taking pleasure in the brush of a hand against his. But Zane’s eyes had a desperate way about them, and so Cole let him take it.

“Bzzzzzzzzzzz….. Buzz…. Shfttt….”

“Morse code,” Zane mumbled, eyes widening as he retrieved Sensei’s message.

_ Jam Village gone. Gs control calls. Hide. _

Jamanakai Village was overrun. Ghosts had invaded the radio waves, restricting Sensei’s calls from going through for the past three days. They were coming. They needed to hide.

_ They’re coming. _

_ They’re coming. _

“They’re coming,” Zane repeated, gasping as he dropped the phone, staring at what was once a comfortable picnic, and what was now a vulnerable position out in the open.

“Who? Who is coming! ” Garmadon barked, quickly standing up with the rest of them, bringing them all closer to him, as if he was going to protect them.

“The undead,” Zane gasped in fear, his legs wobbly and weak once more, “They took over Jamanakai Village. They’ve been controlling the radio waves. They’re com-”

And then they all froze. The whole of ninjago froze, as the sirens that they hoped would never sound again rang out, carrying it’s evil call from the dark island that the Overlord once lived on.

The horns of destruction bellowed, and Cole’s heart stood still, and then all hell broke lose.

_ They’re here. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MUHAHAHAHAHAHAH <\- Lloyd's horrible evil laugh  
> I know, I know, you must all hate me. I'm sorry. But it had to be done.  
> I just couldn't write fluff without something horrible happening.  
> I know. I am a horrible green bean. I accept my fate.


	13. Your Friendly Neighborhood Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morro clashes with the army of undead, and he makes a couple of friends along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I can't thank you enough for your patience and your support. Each comment means the world to me, and it makes me want to write more! Here's a short chapter with Morro (the next three-ish chapters will be very Morro-centric, because I have to get Morro up to speed in the story line XD).
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy! I know, it's Morro heavy, but I hope I make it worth your while! Trust me, this is all important to the plot, I'm not dragging you along a meaningless ride XD
> 
> Without further ado, ghosts! *cheers*
> 
> P.S: Thank you all for being so patient with me, I know I haven't posted in a little while

_ 3 Days Before _

The undead army came in hordes, large blurred groups appearing on the horizon. There were ghosts of all sizes, floating on the path towards Morro, who was standing stock-still at a crumbling grave. The ghosts seemed to pulse a neon green, not like the faded, old moldy green that the dead master of spinjitzu had possessed. They moved in a slow, sauntering manner, coming over the eerie grey hills. The army was miles and miles away, emptiness between them and the dilapidated grave. However, Morro could already feel the sticky uncomfortable feeling that seeped into one’s bones when a living man met a dead one.

The old man’s words echoed loudly in Morro’s mind, warning him of the army’s unloyalty, warning him that calling upon the army would be his undoing. However, he didn’t run, despite the words that the dead old man had relayed to him. He did not cower in fear, and he did not show his fright. He knew that if he ran, if he showed any hesitation to the gigantic horde of undead, their loyalties would be immediately swayed against him. Morro had to stay still, he had to face the intimidating expressions of the army, in order to gain their alliance.

Heading the brigade of undead was a taller ghost, who carried with him rustic guns and a few bottles of gin, all of which were strapped to his belt. He seemed to carry himself differently from the rest, with purpose and honor. Bronze medals hung on his breasts pocket, medals that had been earned in a war many years ago. He had a small, bullet sized hole where his heart was, indicating his death had been that of unnatural causes.

Morro’s breath became short and rushed as the horde came close enough to make out his features. In all honesty, he was scared. Scared that he was about to be killed by his own decision.

“You dare sway the balance?” The head ghost asked, a sneer on his face as if he considered Morro a fool. Several ghosts snickered at this, staring down at Morro as though he was a silly mortal, something they had dealt with many times before, “You, a tiny runt? You dare summon us?”

“Yes, I dare. I dare in exchange for unspeakable power.” Morro countered, putting in as much dominance as he could into his voice. The transparent figure cocked his head in curiosity, and Morro grinned to himself. He had always been one to entice another, to persuade them to partake in a plan that many would opt out of.

“Unspeakable power? What kind of power?” The commander of the army asked, giving Morro a cautious eye.

“Dark power, my friend. Power fruitful enough to turn you back to the living, if you so wish.” He promised, a wide grin gracing his pale pink lips.

Morro was immediately met with laughter, the army chuckling and snickering, as if he was so stupid to suggest such a thing. The commander snorted at Morro’s confused expression, who had obviously not expected such a reaction.

“None of us want to be alive again, foolish boy. Being dead has it’s perks, and living is a far worse reality. Nothing you can give us will satisfy claiming our loyalty to you.” The commander said, a grin sliding onto his face as Morro’s slipped.

His mind whirled as he tried to think of something else to offer them, anything he could say or do to sway them. There was nothing. His heart began to race as his gaze fell on the large army, all equipped with weapons of all shapes and sizes. There was no way to get out of this, even if he was the elemental master of speed.

For the first time since he could remember, he was absolutely speechless.

The commander’s face split into a bone-chilling grin as he watched the fear slowly surface onto Morro’s expression. The silly mortal had no idea what power was, no idea what he was doing when he had stuck his greedy little fingers into the undead cookie jar.

The ghost floated forward, and Morro flinched back, trying to keep the distance between them. But the commander kept floating forward, coming closer to Morro with each step he took back. The army behind the head ghost seemed to grow restless, grins creeping onto their faces as they watched the mortal cower in fear. 

“There are two ways we can approach this,” the commander said, “We can either fight for the title of this army, or we shall keep you as our prisoner. It is up to you to decide.”

Morro’s veins were pumping violently, his heart dancing to a frantic beat. He would not be able to win a battle against something he could not touch, that he knew for sure. The odds were stacked against him. And even if he did win the battle, would the army truly follow him? They looked at him like he was some delicious meal. Would they have the ability to treat him as a god?

But a prisoner of an undead army surely wouldn’t serve him any justice. He would never be able to accomplish his goal. He would simply be jumping from one cage to a new one. Would he risk his life in a battle he knew he could not win?

Morro was about to ask for the battle he knew he would not win, when he saw a movement in the corner of his eye. He glanced to the movement, and his gaze locked onto one of the ghosts.

It was a girl, covered in tattered rags and a dirty hood. Yes, she was a ghost, just like the rest. But she didn’t have the same blood thirsty look in her eyes as the others did. She looked worried, anxious, and… dare he say empathetic?

She shook her head in a very slight head turn, back and forth very,  _ very _ slowly. She was obviously trying to communicate something to him, to tell him something about what he should do. Her eyes screamed “don’t”.

Morro quickly looked back to the commander before the ghost could realize who he was looking at.

He had to trust this girl. She was suspicious, yes, but having someone on his side was better than having no one on his side. It could have been a trap, but a trap was better than nothing at all.

“I… Surrender.”

 

* * *

 

It was a rowdy night. The commander decided to make camp there in the green hills, only feet away from the old fool’s grave.

If Morro learned anything about ghosts, it was the undeniable fact that they loved to party. They had fires lit every couple of feet, dancing and screeching and cackling around them. Their odd dancing, a sort of frantic bobbing in the air, cast ghastly shadows on the faded orange tents that lined the perimeter.

Morro was chained to one of the tents further away from the fires, leaving him in isolation with his hands tied. His feet were getting unbearably itchy from the grass he was sitting in, and he had never felt so desperate to itch his feet as he did now.

He was being ignored, he knew. None of the ghosts even glanced his way, favoring instead to enjoy the festivities. And judging by how the army’s partying had not a single piece of food, they were planning on starving Morro to death.

The mortal cursed himself with harsh words. Why had he let himself be captured? He had done this because he had saw a stupid ghost shake her head minutely. She could have been watching a slow moving butterfly for all he knew, but he had decided to be dumb and take it as a sign.

God, how thick could he be? How scared had he been to do something so idiotic as this? This was not how Morro schemed, this is not how he would win. He was too desperate, and it was going to get him killed.

Maybe it already had.

All because of a stupid little ghost girl. He was an idiot, a big fuc-

“Hey.” 

Morro flinched in surprise, his head snapping to the side, where a ghost had just appeared. 

It was the same girl from earlier, still dressed in rags, head still shrouded in a dirty hood. This ghost was obviously sneaky, seeing as how she had been able to sit down next to Morro without making a sound. She was staring at him intently, her eyes large and sincere. She was leaning in rather close, as if she was watching to see if he was real.

“Uh,” Morro cleared his throat before continuing, “Hi.”

She leaned in closer, and he scooted away from her as best as he could, with the metal restraints and all. She was really starting to freak Morro out. Why was it that he always trusted the creepy ones?

“You would have died in battle. Trust me, this is much better.” She said, glancing down at his chains before looking at him again with large eyes.

“Thank.. You?” How was he supposed to respond to this undead women?

She nodded quickly, a small smile breaking out on her face. Her teeth were straight and clean, not at all what he expected an undead being to look like. In fact, now that he looked at her more closely, she didn’t look at all like the typical dead. Minus the floating and the green glow, she actually looked quite alive.

“What’s your name?” Morro asked before he could stop himself. He immediately tensed up, as if expecting her to be outraged that he had asked a question. However, she only smiled at him.

“Bansha. Well, that’s what they named me.” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion at this.

“‘They’?”

She sighed, rolling her eyes as if she hated telling this story.

“The commander and his right-hand men. They like naming ghosts, you know, the newly undead. You see, each ghost as their own specific power. It all correlates to how they died. Your name always somehow relates to your power, and therefore, your death.” Bansha explained, staring off into the distance as she talked. There was pain in her misty eyes.

There was a strong urge to ask her how she died, how she had gained her name, what power she possessed, but he didn’t know how she would take it. The commander had already shown him that they didn’t care for the subject of life anymore. They liked death, and they didn’t seem too keen on living again.

Morro looked down at the grass, forcing the bubbling questions down. He personally had never liked talking about his life before banishment to the cursed realm. It made him angry and pained, and since angry usually meant someone would lose their head, people avoided making him angry.

“Oh come on,” a voice said behind the two, making both of them jump in surprise. Well, Bansha sort of flickered, but it was the same concept, “Just ask her how she died. It’s a great story.” 

Bansha rolled her eyes as a scowl formed on her lips, “Go away Archer. We didn’t ask you to join our conversation.”

Morro’s eyes scanned this “Archer” from head to toe, sizing the apparently disliked ghost. He had to admit, he was mildly impressed. This guy was muscular, tall, confident, and obviously full of himself. Going off his cocky smirk, Morro could only assume this man was, pardon his french, an ass. Not to mention that wicked bow he was holding, along with some deadly looking arrows in his quiver. He was someone that was not to be messed with.

“Aw, Bansha, you know you love me.” Archer said, winking at Bansha while sitting down next to them. Bansha’s jaw clenched in annoyance, and Morro smirked slightly at the two’s antics.

If Morro could guess, they were friends. Little odd balls that the army did not pay attention to. They were most likely wallflowers, observing rather than engaging. But yet, there was a fire in their eyes. They were misfits. But if there was a chance for them to take over, Morro knew they would. A revolution. He could see it deep under their skin. They craved a change of pace.

So why were they talking to a prisoner? Surely they didn’t think they could get their freedom from a hostage like him.

“What exactly do I have to offer you? I assume you aren’t here to make new friends.” Morro said, eyes flickering between the two ghosts.

They looked to each other, both with questioning eyebrows, as if deciding whether to tell him something or not. After a moment or two of this silent conversation, they turned back to Morro.

“We want to help you. We want to rule beside you,” Bansha explained, sighing deeply before continuing, “We want to be alive again.”

Archer shifted uncomfortably in his seat at this, as if it was something to be ashamed of. His tells, ranging from the chewing of his lip to the twiddling of his thumbs, was an obvious indicator that this subject was not taken lightly among the undead.

“Why? All the other ghosts seem perfectly okay with being dead, why are you two so different?” Morro asked, curiosity taking over him once again, as it always did. Luckily, with these two, his curiosity did not bring about his death.

“Our deaths were… unjust,” Archer mumbled, reaching out towards the grass, as if he was going to pull at it and rip it out of the dirt. However, the blades of green passed straight through his fingers. He clenched his hands into a fist, “I was betrayed. Mob dealings, you see. I liked to make bets. I made exchanges, played a game with it. Sometimes took lives in my gambles. I trusted a friend in one of these bets. He stabbed me in the neck.”

Morro’s eyes flickered to Archer’s neck, and quickly spotted a silvery green scar marring the skin.

Archer looked up from the grass, a forced smirk stretched across his lips as he now looked to Bansha, “Now show us yours, girly.”

She sighed and hugged her knees to her chest, guarding herself from her past. Bansha didn’t like talking about this, that much was obvious.

“The witch trials. They thought I was a witch. I was tied to a stake, and set on fire. I was screaming. That’s my power… screaming.” She said, with a slight tone of self loathing in her words. Her eyes began to glaze over, the fire gleaming off of them, as if she was tearing up.

Archer chuckled and shook his head, as if this was an old joke to him, “Commander has a crude sense of humor. He named you something stupid to put you down. You don’t even LOOK like a banshee, hot stuff.”

“I told you not to call me that.” Bansha managed, her voice a whisper escaping past slightly trembling lips. Archer was obviously not good at comforting other people. And the last thing Morro wanted was a crying ghost while he was trying to formulate a plan.

“Screaming is cool,” Morro piped up. She looked at him with a frown on her lips, as if she didn’t believe him, “No, really. It’s empowering to have your voice be a weapon. I got stuck with the power of wind. You’re much more exciting.”

Her frown twitched into a smile that reached her eyes. Morro mirrored her expression, and wondered, for a second, if he could gain a friend or two in his plan to overtake the green ninja.

Archer, however, was not impressed with the emotional exchange between them.

“You’ve got powers? Why in the world do you need an army of undead’s help then? Couldn’t you just do it all by yourself?” Archer asked.

Morro paused at this, biting his lip and glancing at the two ghosts. Could he trust them? They had revealed their most painful stories after all, it would only be fair to let them in on some things.

“I’m not the only one with powers. There are many more out there, who threaten my existence. They do not appreciate my ambition, and wish to crush my dreams. Dreams that they themselves had planted in my brain. They are manipulators, violent mercenaries who believe they are protecting this realm by giving its most powerful weapon to a mere child.” Morro said. And this story was absolutely true. He had only left out things. He had not added a single fact to the tale that was made up.

“So this realm is important to you?” Bansha asked, her eyes wide and searching once more. He firmly nodded in response.

“It’s my home. I would do anything to protect it.”

Archer suddenly snorted, making Morro flinch. 

“Obviously not. You just released an army of undead soldiers on your precious realm. You’re  _ far _ from protecting it.” Archer said, smirking with an arrogance that caused Morro’s anger to spike.

“Archer-!” Bansha began.

“No, no, I’d like to hear what he has to say,” Morro said with a gleam in his eyes, “Tell me more, Archer.”

The ghost rolled his eyes as Morro raised his chin in the air, his glare a challenge for Archer to take.

“There’s nothing to say, idiot. You obviously tripped up. And there’s only one way you can get control of this army and come out on top. The way you tell your pity story, and the way you keep flashing us with those puppy dog eyes that  _ scream _ innocence, I can tell you think you’re the good guy. They’re in the wrong, you’re in the right, blah blah blah,” Archer mocked each blah with the roll of his wrist, “BUT! Sometimes, in order to win, you gotta be the bad guy.”

“What is your point, Archer?” Morro snapped, snarling at the ghost.

“My point, windbag, is what are you prepared to do? How far are you willing to go to ensure your spot on the throne?” Archer leaned forward at this, getting up in the human’s face with a leering grin on his lips, “Cause I can assure you, this isn’t going to be all sunshine and daisies.”

Morro shifted slightly away from Archer, uncomfortable by the ghostly figure invading his space. The ghost did not follow his retreat and stayed put. However, his chilling grin did not falter from his lips.

Morro’s eyes narrowed as he began to catch on.

“What do you have in mind?” Morro questioned, both Bansha and he looking to the male ghost. A lick of madness flickered in Archer’s eyes at the question.

“Oh, I have a couple of arrows up my sleeve.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woot woot!!! :D  
> If you can't tell, I love Archer XD He's so awesome. This trio is just going to be the trio of complete sass, I can already tell XD  
> Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! Leave me comments and kudos, the feedback helps me keep writing! :D


	14. Rebellion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morro and his new friends stage their rebellion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO SORRY ABOUT THE WAIT  
> IT'S BEEN FOREVER SINCE I LAST POSTED AND I AM SO SORRY  
> You all are so patient and I am so lucky to have you all as my readers. College has been a major pain in the butt when it comes to getting motivation to do things that don't have a due date.  
> But I did the thing. You all can thank two of my best friends and my roommate for basically tying me to a chair and making me write this.  
> Again  
> IM SO SORRY  
> AND I LOVE YOU ALL  
> And to all of my reviewers: Yes I am still writing this. I promise.

_ 2 Days Before. _

As the morning sun crested over the green hills, it found two ghosts, up unusually early, crouched behind an orange tent. They were tense, alert; and yet, there seemed to be excitement in their eyes, the heat of rebellion coiling deep in the pits of their stomachs.

“Are you  _ sure _ about this?” Bansha hissed under her breath, attempting to be as quiet as she could be. 

“I’m hurt, hot stuff,” Archer whispered back, fiddling with some odd, clunky device in his hands, “Are you really doubting me?”

“Are you surprised?” She countered, her eyebrows raising in amusement. Archer’s hands paused, ceasing their erratic movements on the rusty technology.

“No. I guess not,” he responded with a smirk, glancing at her before going back to the device in his hand.

She wasn’t going to pretend she knew what Archer was doing. He was quirky, even for a ghost. There was no point in ever questioning him, or trying to figure out what he was doing. Archer was like a hurricane, rushing around at a speed so dangerous that one could lose their sanity in his storm. He worked on a different level than everyone else, plotting and scheming and gambling with your life before you even realized you had spoken to him.

It was no surprise to Bansha that he had become a self-absorbed asshole, having lived in such a different universe his whole life, being the ruler of his own world.

A rustle in a nearby tent caused both of them to freeze in their crouched positions. After a few moments of following silence however, they both let out a breath, adrenaline decreasing just as quickly as it had spiked.

The other ghosts weren’t awake yet. The sun had barely even started to rise, and ghosts were known for their tendency to sleep in. But even though the two knew this fact, they still felt jumpy, and every sound made their ghostly hearts pound.

To be caught, doing such a thing as what they were doing, would mean immediate exile to the cursed realm. They had seen it happen before, to previous ghosts who had committed treason against the commander. It was not an enjoyable thing to witness.

And that was why they were hiding behind their faded orange tent, messing with a scrap piece of metal, squatting in the dewy grass while the rest of the ghost army slept on.

Bansha peaked around the tent once more, just to make sure that all ghosts were indeed sleeping. There was no movement, besides the roll of Morro’s head on the other end of camp, nodding as if he was reluctantly falling asleep. The poor mortal had been up all night, too uncomfortable and too vulnerable to allow his eyes to close.  

“Where do you think he’s from?” Archer muttered under his breath, not looking up from the device. She didn’t need to ask to know he was talking about Morro. Bansha glared at Archer with narrowed eyes, sensing something deeper than casual conversation. The way in which he asked the question was not his usual light, care-free tone. He sounded skeptical, untrusting, scheming.

“From this world. He said this was his-” Bansha began.

“I could smell it on him,” Archer had a dangerous snarl laced in his words, “The cursed realm. It was faint, maybe a couple days old. But he reeked. He’s not from around here. There’s something he’s not telling us.”

His tone was concerningly serious, something that never meant happy endings when it was coming from Archer. It usually meant someone was about to be speared in the heart with one of his arrows, or even worse, their soul taken as payment. This was his namesake after all, the “Soul Archer”. The business of other’s souls was not a laughing manner for him.

“Stop being so dramatic,” Bansha scoffed and returned back to her position behind the tent next to Archer, not able to see Morro anymore, “Your conspiracy theories are always so stupid.”

Archer pouted at this, bottom lip jutting out as he looked up at her, “I am not dramatic.”

“Uh-huh,” Bansha snarked, “Not at all.”

A smile broke out on his lips, and he shoved Bansha playfully. She fell to the grass, giggling as quietly as she could as Archer went back to the device back in his hands. The thing made a sudden beeping noise, and a blue dot appeared on the dirty, pale green screen.

“Bingo, mi amiga,” the ghost whispered excitedly, wide grin spread haphazardly on his face as he quickly glanced at Bansha. She scooted closer to him, looking over his shoulder at the device. It looked like a fuzzy, out of focus radar screen, almost invisible behind the grimy screen. A faint blue dot was blinking in the corner of the screen, only just moving, almost unnoticeable.

“So, are you going to explain what this is now?” Bansha enquired, watching in confusion as Archer’s fingers swiftly brushed the dirty buttons and switches.

“Weather.” Archer muttered, barely audible as his grin slipped off his face. He was once again in his zone, cutting off the outside world as he concentrated on the radar device. Obviously, in the world he disappeared to when he focused as hard as he was now, saying simply “weather” was enough to communicate everything that was going on in that moment.

“Right. Weather.” Bansha repeated, rolling her eyes in frustration, “Everything makes sense now,” Archer sighed at her sarcastic tone, and looked at her over his shoulder, pulling his attention reluctantly away from the radar.

“It tracks storms. That blue dot right there? That’s a thunderstorm. About…” He paused for a couple of seconds, squinting his eyes as he examined the radar, “Thirty miles north. We’ve got about an hour until it hits.”

Bansha must have been missing something here, because thunderstorms had never struck her as something of much importance, especially when it came to staging a rebellion consisting of two ghosts, and a mortal prisoner.

“And we’re tracking thunder because…?” 

“Rain, Bansha. Rain.”

Bansha’s mouth fell into a small “o”, everything suddenly making sense. Water was fatal to ghosts. If Morro was able to make an attack during a thunderstorm…

“Brilliant,” she breathed, a smile gracing her lips before another question bubbled out of them, “And how did you make such a thing way out here, in the middle of nowhere?”

Archer gave her another shit eating grin. 

“Oh, you know. A hope, a prayer, and a little bit of Morro’s dark pixie dust. Did you know he’s got powers other than the wind ones? He wouldn’t tell me how he got these ‘dark’ powers but...”

Bansha’s eyes narrowed as she looked at her friend suspiciously, smile quickly fading.

“Why do have a feeling a gamble was involved in this?” She asked, her chest becoming heavy and full of dread. Archer took a pause before answering.

“Because there’s a gamble involved in this.” Archer managed, before peeling off in quiet laughter, not able to hold in the hilarity after seeing the complete glare of disappointment on Bansha’s face.

“Please don’t tell me you bargained for his soul.” She groaned, watching the silently shaking figure with growing concern. The last thing she needed was for Morro to be fated with a cursed soul.

“Of course not,” Archer whispered, once he was able to control his laughter once more, “I gambled for something much more important.”

“Yes? And what was that?” Bansha asked, feeling worry creep slowly up her throat. Of course, she should have know it wasn’t something so serious that he had bargained for, in exchange for his help in creating the device. She should have known it would be something so stupid, something like-

“His green hair dye.”

 

* * *

 

His eyes stung, dry and tired from a night with no sleep. He could practically feel the bags under his eyes forming, causing every blink to feel slow and heavy. But he couldn’t go to sleep. Hands cuffed behind his back, he was forced into an uncomfortable sitting position, having been left with no room to get comfortable. Morro had some sneaking suspicion the ghost commander had intentionally caused the lack of sleep.

It hadn’t helped that Archer had woken Morro up, right before he almost, finally, slipped into sleep. It was not pleasant to be poked awake, only to be asked to conjure “dark magic” in exchange for the green hair dye Morro used. 

Someday soon, Morro swore he was going to go mad.

His tired eyes once more flicked over to the tent across the way, Bansha’s head peaking out from behind it for the fifth time. As to what they were doing, Morro had not the faintest idea. All Archer had said to do was “get ready for a fight” and “get some good rest”. It was frustrating, being in the dark to a plan that  _ he  _ was supposed to be the center of. How were they supposed to be a team if they didn’t even communicate? Granted, Morro was being rather sneaky himself, purposefully avoiding many facts that could be considered important. But what Bansha and Archer didn’t know couldn’t hurt them.

Morro’s eyes grew heavier as he thought harder, his body protesting such exertion. If there was to be a battle today as Archer had said, Morro might as well already declare himself dead. Hell, might as well just give up defeating the green ninja. He couldn’t even lift his leg.

Morro didn’t remember closing his eyes, but next thing he knew, he was being shook by the shoulders.

“Hey! Hey, Morro, wake up!”

His eyes immediately flashed open, malice in their glare as he stared back at Bansha. He knew she probably had good reason to wake him up, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. Bansha quickly took her hands off him, backing up a couple of steps as if to fend off his death stare.

“What.” He growled, eyes burning more than they had been before. He was really starting to regret his whole plan, if it meant he would never get a wink of sleep again.

“Sorry. I know you didn’t get much sleep, but it’s important.” Bansha explained, her words urgent.

There was a couple moments of silence as Morro waited for the ghost to tell him what was so very urgent. But she simply stared at him, anxiety in her eyes as if she was afraid of being attacked by the sleep deprived Morro.

“Well? Isn’t it urgent?” Morro snarled through his teeth, annoyance starting to seep in.

“Uh, right. Well, Archer made the decision, and really, I had nothing to do with this, I swear, I would have talked to you fir-”

“Bansha. Please.” Morro interrupted. The ghost took a deep breath, as if she was about to light a fuse to a bomb that would end badly.

“Archer told the commander that you challenged him to duel?” It sounded more like a question than it did a statement, as if she was reluctant to say it. Her voice squeaked towards the end of her sentence, reminding Morro of a scared mouse.

“ _ What _ ,” Morro hissed, Bansha flinching at his response. He instinctively pulled on his restraints, metal biting into his wrists as he tried to reach the ghost in his anger. He wanted to get close, to tower over her and spit his rage like some untamed dragon. But all he could do was tug and thrash helplessly against his prison. This was  _ his _ plan, this was his victory, and Archer thought it would be okay to plan their escape for him? No, this was certainly not okay. Not in the slightest.

Bansha took a couple bit more steps back, this time raising her hands in somewhat of a surrender, “Archer has a plan to ensure your victory. I’m not defending him, but he wouldn’t do something so impulsive unless he was sure he knew the outcome.”

“Oh?” Morro snapped, “And what if his ideal outcome is to get me killed? Are you really so thick as to think that betrayal is below your friend?”

Bansha lowered her hands as a stony look settled on her face, determination and confidence arising in her ghostly eyes, “Archer may be a self-centered jerk with no boundaries, but he isn’t a backstabber.”

Usually, Morro wasn’t one to trust on words alone. He took care in not making friends, and rarely did he ever put his life in the hands of another. But there was a pull to trust Bansha, a need to believe that she was right. A need for her to be a friend, free from ulterior motives and hidden agendas.

Maybe this blinded trust would end in his demise. Maybe someday, he would deeply regret ever becoming fond of this ghost. But Morro always got what he wanted, and if that something wasn’t good for him; well, he was too impulsive to care.

“Never mind. There are more pressing matters to worry about right now. Like this duel that I’ve been roped into. How does Archer plan on getting me out of this alive?” Morro asked, leaning back into his position again, letting the restraints loosen their grip on his wrists. Bansha’s shoulders relaxed at Morro’s retreat from his anger, coupled with a mischievous glint in her eye that no other would have thought her capable of, at a glance.

“A storm. Archer has tracked and located a storm.” The ghost said. Behind these words, Morro could see the need for rebellion flicking like fire in her eyes; a fire that had once been a simple dull flame.

Morro’s stomach flipped at the news, at the implication of what a storm could mean for them. Suddenly, any tiredness he felt, any stinging in his eyes, immediately disappeared. It was instead replaced with a desire to win, the promise of a fight boiling his blood in the most pleasurable way imaginable.

“Rain!” Morro exclaimed in excitement, now pulling at the chains with a whole new emotion, “Water is fatal to ghosts!” 

All they had to do was wait for the rain. Make sure that Bansha and Archer got into a tent in time, stall long enough for the storm to approach, and they would win! Morro was certain he had never felt so excited as he did now. 

All anger was now forgotten, having been replaced with the sweet taste of victory that Morro had missed so dearly. Finally,  _ finally,  _ some cards were in his favor. He finally had the upper hand, after being dealt failure after failure.

Bansha smiled at him as her new friend got excited. To Morro, the smile seemed completely genuine, not anything short of happiness.

However, in his distraction, he did not see the way her smile was thin and stretched, or how it did not reach her eyes. 

“We need to gather more ghosts to aid us when we take over this realm!” Morro exclaimed, fists clenching and unclenching behind his back in excitement, “Bansha, gather whoever you can, whoever you trust! We need as many ghosts as we can!”

“Of course. I’ll tell Archer to do the same.” Bansha replied, before quickly jogging (floating?) off, presumably to find the male ghost. Morro was left behind to smile at himself foolishly, looking mental to any ghost that passed by.

Morro did not see the way Bansha’s strained smile immediately wiped off her face as she turned away from him, a troubled frown gracing her lips instead.

Bansha was not dumb. She could be considered naive by many people; puppy-eyed and happy to help. But she knew when something was fishy, and she knew to never ignore Archer’s suspicions about anyone, especially about someone who, apparently, smelled like the cursed realm after all. Someone who not only smelled like the Cursed Realm, but also knew about a ghost’s weakness.

Ghosts kept their weaknesses a secret. Water was always too easy for the living to use, too easy to destroy the undead in an instant. For any mortal to know such a secret that they had tried to keep so well hidden… It was blasphemy. There was no innocent explanation as to why Morro had known such a fact. There was no way Morro could have come across that information by happenstance.  

There was no denying the smell, either. That unmistakable musk that only came from the cursed realm. And only the worst of the worst went there. Most ghosts went to Asphodel, to live a rather boring afterlife. Not even the commander had been to the cursed realm, and he was one of the most evil creatures Bansha had ever met.

What if they were on the wrong side of this revolution? There was no doubt in Bansha’s mind that she wanted to get out of this hell to go and live as she had always wanted... But maybe Morro wasn’t the sign they had been looking for. Maybe he wasn’t exactly the protagonist of his tale.

Bansha knew Archer wouldn't terribly mind being the bad guy, as long as it meant a little adventure. This was something different though. This felt like they were dealing with god who had fallen from his throne, and was now scrambling to get back on top of it. This felt like the tale of Icarus, a boy with wax wings who got too close to the sun, whose wings melt, and who found his death in the sea below him.

She cursed under her breath and picked up her pace, traveling faster towards Archer’s tent. He was right, she was always too trusting, always too willing to see the best out of everyone she met. It would get them into trouble someday. It possibly already had with Morro.

“Archer?” She called from the tent entrance once she arrived, tension clear in her voice. She heard some rustling coming from inside the tent, and she was almost about to enter in concern, when Archer’s head poked through the door.

“What?” He snarled angrily, flashing his teeth in frustration. However, upon seeing it was only Bansha, the emotion immediately wiped off his face. “Oh, it’s you. I thought you were Ghoultar, asking me for more food. Come in.”

Archer’s head disappeared back through the tent’s flaps, Bansha following behind him.

Let it be known that Archer was not a clean man. There were spare metal parts littering the ground, surely fatal for any living creature who tried to walk into his tent. It didn’t bother a ghost of course, they passed through such things as scrap pieces of metal on the floor. There was trash haphazardly thrown into a corner, as if that corner in the tent was his trash can. The only thing that was kept neat in his living space was his arrows, placed carefully in his quiver and hung next to his bow.

“Ghoultar really isn’t that bad. He just has a one-track mind, that’s all,” Bansha said as she sat down in the one small space not covered in rubbish. The other ghost stared incredulously at his friend, obviously questioning her sanity in saying such a thing.

“Well, he needs to take that one-track mind somewhere else before I split his skull open,” Archer grumbled, looking away from her as he fiddled with something arbitrary in his hands.

They sat in silence for a couple of seconds looking down at the ground, in their own thoughts, before either of them spoke.

“Morro knew about the water,” Bansha started with, anxiety pooling in her stomach just from saying such words. Archer’s head snapped up, eyes immediately boring into Bansha.

“What?” he asked.

“He already knew water was fatal to ghosts. And you were right, he doesn't smell like a normal mortal,” Bansha said, gritting her teeth at her naivety. Of course he didn’t smell right, how had she missed it? 

She expected Archer to rub it in her face, to bask in his “I told you so” moment. But the ghost only clenched his fists and looked down at whatever he was tinkering with as if it had personally wronged him.

A silence fell over the two ghosts, an uncomfortable quiet that was heavy with deep thoughts and second guessing. They had been wrong to trust Morro, that much Bansha knew. Were they to risk their lives to stage a rebellion with a man who lied? Was there any way this rebellion could come out in their favor? Any way at all?

Bansha was almost ready to give up, to suggest they do away with the whole plan. She opened her mouth to say as such, when Archer’s eyes snapped up to meet Bansha’s.

“We’ve gotten ourselves into the mess,” Archer stated, with that determined fire in his eyes that seemed always present, “And we’re going to stay in it, no matter how rough it gets. And afterwards, when the rebellion goes exactly as we planned, we’ll knock the little lying shit upside the head until he tells us where he  _ really _ came from.”

* * *

Ten minutes. Ten minutes until he was to face off with the commander of the ghost army. Ten ghastly minutes to spend in a nervous frenzy before he was to begin a hopefully successful takeover. 

Morro shifted in his restraints as cheers roared from inside the commander’s tent, across the camp from where he was currently held. It seemed as though almost every ghost was in that tent, performing some odd pre-game ritual involving shouts and clanging. Well, that was, every ghost except Bansha, Archer, and anyone else they had recruited. 

As of right now, the little rebellious group was hiding in Archer’s tent, hiding from the rain and waiting for Morro to succeed. And he would succeed. He had to. All he had to do was use enough wind to drag the storm faster to the campsite. It was not a hard task to complete, Morro had done much more difficult things before.

But he was nervous. Oh, was he nervous. His future was at the stake, the lives of his allies were on the line as well. Never had another’s life been such a burden on him as it was now. He should care less about Bansha and Archer. He knew he was more important than they ever would be in the grand scheme of things. But these ghosts… They were special. Too much like him, too relatable for him to toss in the back of his mind.

Morro was suddenly brought out of his thoughts to the sound of yelling and clanging, the horde of ghosts finally marching out of the tent in a cheerful brigade. Morro swallowed thickly and tried to put on his most afraid face. It was better to fake the commander into thinking he wouldn’t have to try as hard to defeat Morro. With his guard down, he wouldn’t be able to flee from the rain that would eventually be his undoing. That being said, Morro didn’t really need to act scared; it felt too real to be acting.

“Puny little mortal, are you ready to fight? You do realize you are about to die, yes?” The commander snarked as he walked towards the center of the tent circle. His followers traveled on his heels, placing ghostly armor on him as he walked. An impressive image, most likely meant to strike fear into the heart of the opponent. It wasn’t necessarily failing.

Morro kept his mouth shut, refusing to respond as two ghost henchman came over to release him from his restraints. As soon as the wretched things were off, he snatched his wrists away from the ghosts, rubbing them as if to sooth the rawness.

The two ghosts nudged him forward once he was on his feet, guiding him towards the center of the camp where the commander stood in wait. Morro’s heart was beating in a frenzy of sorts, each step taking him towards his possible doom. Everything hung in the balance for this fight. To win this would be victory towards becoming the true green ninja, to calming his rightful place. And he had left such important plans, such a fragile future, to a ghost named Archer. What the hell was he think-

“Are you going to cry, mortal?” The commander asked with a bitter laugh, a smirk clear on his face, “You look ready to flee in fear. Will you?”

Morro tried to force determination onto his face. He tried to show an air of courage in his stance. But his confidence was crumbling quickly. He had yet to see storm clouds approach, the one thing all of this was banking on. He swore, if Archer’s plan didn’t work, Morro would come back from the dead again and haunt the ghost for the rest of his eternal life.

“I won’t flee. What about you? Are you afraid to get beaten by a mortal?” Morro responded with a sneer. The commander scowled in response and held out his hand towards his crowd of supporters behind him. One of them hastily handed him a sword, which he immediately swung in an act of intimidation. 

Morro’s heart began to pump faster. He wasn’t going to win this. He was going to lose. He was going to die by the hands of a ghost. He would never be known as the savior to his beloved world.

The commander took a couple of steps forward before jabbing at Morro in a quick movement. Morro flinched, jumping back at the obvious taunt. The ghost cackled along with his army, and Morro could  _ feel _ the fear seeping into his eyes, haunting his every movement.

The commander took another swing, this time meaning to make purchase with Morro’s body. Morro jumped out of the way yet again, planning on dodging until he got hit and eventually died. 

Just as he was planning his quickest escape route, however, he suddenly felt a thrum in his veins. A sense of upcoming power curling in his gut that he only knew as a storm. The feeling of harsh winds close by, the raw power just waiting to be tamed.

Morro chanced a glance to the sky on the horizon, directing his attention away from the commander with a deadly sword.

Beyond the ghost’s figure, dark grey clouds were forming. Ominous, stormy clouds the the commander could not see. Joy leaped in Morro’s throat at the sight, threatening to come out as a shout of elation. The storm was coming, and he could feel it within himself. He tugged on the feeling, the storm immediately reacting to his summons. He was going to win this. He was going to be able to defeat the commander. His desire changed from wanting to haunt Archer, to wanting to kiss him for existing.

In his thoughts, however, Morro forgot about the fact that his life was currently in jeopardy due to a sword-wielding ghost leader. A slice of the sword nicked Morro’s arm, quickly bringing him back to the present with an unsightly welcome. 

“Gah!” Morro shouted in sudden pain, grasping his arm and dodging the next swing the commander took.

“Getting too bored? Let me make things entertaining for you then, shall we?” The commander spat at Morro, before rushing at him with sword pointed at his chest. Morro jumped back yet again, remembering that yes, he had to stay alive in order for this plan to work. He had to avoid the commander as long as he possibly could. Since he didn’t have a weapon, or anything to combat the commander with, Morro did the best thing that he could in the situation.

He ran.

“What do you think you are doing, mortal? Do you think running in circles will save you?” The commander shouted in laughter, the crowd of ghosts howling at the scene of the pitiful mortal running in wide circles around the commander. They had no idea what was about to hit them, no idea that Morro had the upper hand, despite how silly he looked.

The tugging sensation grew stronger in his veins. The storm was close now, close enough to force it the rest of the way to the camp, to speed it to an unnatural limit. The rain would be on them any moment, and the ghosts that were jeering would soon be eliminated. 

Morro clenched his arm tighter in pain, could feel the crimson blood soaking his hand as he ran. But he had felt much worse than this. This was nothing, nothing compared to the feeling of being betrayed by the only person who you thought loved you.

“Stop playing these foolish games! Fight me, you coward!” The commander shouted in anger before sticking out his foot, tripping Morro to the ground. He reached out to soften his fall, but his weak and bloody arm collapsed beneath him, leaving him to face-plant into the dirt. The ghost army laughed even louder at this, loving the humiliation as if it was a game.

But it did not matter what they found funny, because at that moment, Morro’s gut gave the strongest tug yet before completely dissipating from his system. His powers had done their job. The storm was here.

The first rain drop was silent. No ghost noticed their impending doom closing in on them, too focused on their laughing. But the second drop of rain was noticed. A yelp from the crowd, as if one of them had been stung by an especially violent bee, was heard. The crowd still jeered, yet it quieted, as if confusion was quickly setting in. 

The third and fourth and fifth rain drop hit, and suddenly, ghosts were wailing from the pain. The knelt to the ground, writhing in the storm as the water pierced through their translucent existence. The commander dropped their sword, the weapon hitting the now muddy ground with a slop. Each rain drop was piercing his green body, creating holes of space, as if the ghost was being shot time and time again.

Morro sat in the mud with a grin on his face as the commander glared down at him in hate. Water streamed down Morro’s face, his hair becoming drenched, but the water was worth the satisfaction that came with watching the downfall of the commander. His rise to power was beginning. 

And in the storm, sitting in the soggy mud, in the thunder and the rain that was ruining his clothes, Morro had never felt as powerful as he did in that moment.   

 

* * *

_1 Day Before_  
  


After the defeat of the commander, it did not take long for Morro’s plan to begin. However, Bansha and Archer cornered him, talking to Morro with angry expressions and frustrated tones.

“You’re from the cursed realm, we know you are,” Bansha accused.

“You’re just a lying little twerp, aren’t you? Who are you really, ‘Morro’?” Archer had emphasized with air quotations.

Morro hadn’t had a choice but to tell them. They refused to move out of camp with the small army that they had collected for Morro until he told them the truth. He didn’t want to, of course. Even he could see how maybe he would look like the bad guy to many people. But they understood, he had been wronged, he had been told he was something and then told he was not. And they understood this more than he would have ever thought they would.

The army of ghosts that Bansha and Archer had collected was formidable enough for him to work with. And with each person they killed, of course, the army would evidently grow.

I’ll need you to take Jamanakai village,” Morro ordered Bansha, talking to the whole group as he pointed to a map of Ninjago he had laid on the commander’s table, “You and your troops will kill as many people as you can there. Set up camp, maintain a strong perimeter, the works. Jamanakai village is the hub for all communication. The city is too invested in their technology to know what to do when it’s shut off.” 

Bansha nodded, shooting a small smile at Morro before turning to the troops and ordering them to start grabbing the materials. Morro smiled to himself in response, before turning to Archer and his men.

“There is a small town way out on the outskirts of the Ninjago City limit. It’s a peaceful town. There shouldn’t be any trouble in taking it over and setting up camp. Same deal there as well, take out as many locals as you can. The more dead, the more to command. As soon as you take over the town, move towards the city. By that point, both of you and your troops will have enough dead to plant another sector in the city on standby until my signal.” 

Archer nodded, yet he did not turn to his troops as Bansha did. Instead, as ever the Archer they knew and didn’t really love, he argued.

“But how will we make this work? We can’t just attack as soon as we get there. Two attacks going off at different times could be catastrophic. We could be spread too thin and lose the momentum. How are we going to know when to att-” Archer was in a rant, but Morro stopped him before he could continue to plant doubt in Morro’s leadership. Of course Archer did not mean it in this way, and yet the ghost did need to learn how to trust Morro.

“You will know. Just trust me. You will hear my signal and know,” Morro ensured.

Archer squinted in question at Morro, but the ghost turned to his troops none the less, accepting his answer even if a little questionable.

Soon the troops were off, Bansha confidently leading her sector and Archer passively leading his. Morro watched them off with pride and glee until they disappeared beyond the horizon towards their destination. 

Morro hiked his bag full of materials on his back before heading in his own direction towards his personal goal. The Island of Darkness, the old spinjitzu master had said. That was where Morro had to go in order to ever reach his goal.

And soon, Sensei Wu and all of Ninjago would know who their true savior was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUN  
> Can any of you tell I'm tired of writing full Morro chapters yet XD  
> Man that ending was rushed but it's okay because I want to get back to our cliffhanger and our gay boys.  
> See you next time, hopefully not in 5 months (can you tell how sorry I am *cries* You all are too good for me)
> 
> ALSO: I HAVE A TUMBLR. AND AN INSTAGRAM. COME FIND ME AT 0-scorch-the-earth-0 ON TUMBLR OR AS silly_slytherin ON INSTAGRAM


	15. Fires and Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morro's plan finally takes off, and the ninja start to face their emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternative Title Name: Cole Comes Out of the Fire (and Closet)
> 
> I hope you guys like this chapter, and don't hate me too much!! XD
> 
> For new people, just a reminder that I have a Tumblr and an Instagram. I release art that I make for Recalibrate, sneak peaks for the upcoming chapters, and I talk to all of you! Feel free to check me out! 
> 
> insta: Silly_slytherin
> 
> Tumblr: 0-scorch-the-earth-0
> 
> Enjoy guys! And don't forget to leave a comment, I literally live off of them.

_ Previously on Recalibrate: Zane and the gang have a nice picnic when suddenly Garmadon gets a call, recognized by Zane as Morse code. The horns of Destruction blare, where the reader knows Morro is currently, gathering dark remnants while his ghost army waits for his signal…. _

* * *

Paralyzed by the haunting bellows from the horns of destruction, the group that had previously been enjoying a wonderful night was now stricken with terror. Zane did not look up from the picnic blanket and the grey phone that lay on it. The wretched grey phone, still spewing morse code from the speaker, warning the group of a danger unlike any other that they had faced before.

In those few moments before hell reigned down on the small village, sound was whisked away into the darkness. The noises of the forest had abruptly ceased, the creek’s soothing trickling disappeared into the silence; the land of Ninjago, and the things that lived on it, stopped breathing as the horn’s blaring reached its sandy shores. In those few brief moments, everything ceased to exist. 

The sound of an arrow zipping by and piercing the ground beside the group on the picnic blanket was the first thing to break them out of their fear-frozen state. Zane’s eyes broke from his gaze on the phone, head whipping around to stare at the arrow that had narrowly missed him, sticking out from the ground only inches away.

“Go, go, go, GO, GO!”  Sensei Garmadon ordered franticly with a shout, grabbing Misako by the arm as he pulled her up into a sprint. They began running towards the monastery not far away, the place they had called home for a time now. Their concern was not for the two teens they were leaving behind, for they knew the two could fend for themselves. They had not become world renowned heroes for nothing.

Cole yanked Zane up from the ground, the nindroid wobbling on weak legs as though the work out earlier to help rehabilitate his robotic body had not occurred. Fear and something akin to adrenaline coursed through Zane’s wires, lodging itself in his throat as he clawed at Cole’s body, trying to find skin or shirt to hang on to. 

The earth elemental attempted to pull Zane along with him, much as the Sensei had done with his wife. But Zane’s legs gave as he cried out in fear, tumbling to the ground as his body forgot how to run. Never had he felt so scared, under attack while his body was crippled from such overwhelming fright. 

In that moment, pupils dilated and the sound of death pounding in his ears, he almost felt human.

“Shit, Zane, SHIT!” Cole screamed as another arrow whistled through the air, hitting the spot Zane’s hand had been at only a second before. The grass immediately wilted around the arrow that now stuck out of the ground, glowing green and sucking out the souls of the grass around it.

Their faces were now becoming illuminated by the fires quickly spreading throughout the village. House roofs were set ablaze and forest trees turned a hot, angry orange that licked up the branches. Shadows of the villagers danced in the fire, running figures with arms thrown forward as if reaching for escape. 

The nindroid was once again brought out of shock as Cole grabbed tightly onto Zane’s arm, pulling with a strength only the elemental of earth could poses. The two warriors made eye contact in the moment, orange flames and fear reflected in their irises.

Zane shoved at Cole as the man tried to help him back up, shouting above the horns of destruction and the screams of the villagers, “You have to run! I am only dead weight to you! You need to get out of here Cole!”

Another arrow whizzed by, Cole hitting the ground to avoid being struck by the weapon. Out of the corner of his eye, the leader of the ninja swore he saw something transparent and green near the illuminated tree line; a faint outline of something human-like, holding a bow in its hands. 

The thought of leaving Zane behind with a bow-wielding transparent figure did not settle well with Cole’s stomach.

“I am NOT having you sacrifice yourself today, Tincan! Arms around my neck, come on!” Cole shouted, Zane reaching up and wrapping his icy, snow pale arms around the leader’s neck, accepting Cole’s efforts. Cole scooped the nindroid up as hastily as possibly, pushing off the ground and sprinting to the monastery as Zane held on tight. 

Sounds of arrows thunking into the ground behind them filled both of the ninja with a sense of overwhelming fear; one’s heart beating faster by the second, another one’s wires screaming of danger and death.

Cole crashed through the monastery doors with a strength unmatched, plowing into the wood as only the elemental of earth could do. They both fell to the floor, Zane tumbling out of Cole’s arms as Cole fell to the ground. They scrambled to their feet as they were met with yet more chaos, Zane using a nearby table to help him rise from the ground.

The monastery was not faring well as the attack ascended on the village. Monks were screaming and tripping over one another in an attempt to escape. A fire had started in the roof of the main room, and the threat of the ceiling collapsing on all of their heads was immediate. 

“Cole!” Zane exclaimed over the screams from inside the monastery and out, “The ceiling!”

There was no way the building would be able to evacuate in enough time to pull everyone to safety. And with the ghostly figures outside, pillaging the town and taking fire to the buildings, there was no true escape where everyone could be saved.

“Damn it,” Cole whispered under his breath, eyes darting around, looking for some way to save the people. They were always able to find a way, they  _ always _ won. But the only thing that met him was fire, and screaming and the sense of doom.

“I can’t use my ice!” Zane exclaimed in panic as he tried to procure a steady ice flow for the fire. All that was made was wisps of cold curling from his hands, evaporating immediately in the growing heat of the fire. Concern and worry flickered through his icy blue eyes, connecting with Cole’s emerald ones in an unspoken yet understood terror.   

In the past, their battles may have not always been neat. There had been times when they had been sloppy, gotten caught, or blown their cover. There had been times in their fights where they didn’t work as a team, tripping each other up and disagreeing with one another when it was crucial to be working together. There had been times where to call them ninja would have been generous.

But never, in all of their fighting, had they lost innocent people due to their own incompetence. Their primary job was to protect the people of Ninjago at all costs: no casualties, no failures. To be faced with the possibility that they could not save the day, that innocents would die because their heroes couldn't save them, left the deepest chill in their lungs.

The room grew hotter and hotter as the elementals stood in the midst of chaos, helpless to defend the monks and the people in their homes. 

A beam from the roof caved, cracking like the sound of a gunshot before falling to the ground with an earth shattering bang. Screams of terror erupted between the two ninja, voices feeling lost in the heat. Cole’s arms shot out to Zane and pulled the nindroid to his body as the ground shook, dragging him away from the fallen beam even though it was nowhere near them.

Fire licked around them as Cole watched freedom die in the flames. His breathing became harder, soot and smoke clogging his airway and itching at his lungs. Clean oxygen lay on the outside, and yet the outside lead to a painful death at the hands of their attackers. Staying inside, there would be no deaths by arrow. But the flames would smother them and leave behind ashes.

“I dont want to die,” Cole whispered to himself as he clung onto Zane harder, burrowing his nose into the elemental’s white hair and breathing deeply. It smelled of ash and burning, no longer the fresh scent that Cole had come to know.

The nindroid tried to struggle out of the embrace, yelled at Cole to let go, to find a plan, to save the people. They couldn’t accept failure, not now, not so quickly. They had to win, there was no other option. Cole pulled his face out of Zane’s hair to stare into the icy blue eyes. There was fear and desperation staring back at him as the ice elemental continued to yell. For Zane, the need to protect and succeed was as vital to him as Cole’s need for oxygen.

Zane had been built to be perfect; built to protect those who could not protect themselves. And in all their years of fighting on the same team and living in close quarters, Cole had learned that although built for perfection, Zane had never learned to know when to give up at the expense of others. He would try to protect the people until his last moment of life, without a care if the mission was impossible or not. When it came to the people, losing was simply not an option.

There was only one option they had, only one option that Cole knew of that could get them out of this alive. They had to give up. 

Cole quickly picked up Zane in his arms with a yelp of surprise from the nindroid, having been interrupted in mid-yell. Arms, now warm from the fire, wrapped around Cole’s neck as Zane held on for dear life. And then hugged tighter as Cole headed straight for the flames.

“COLE, N-” Zane screamed, piercing his nails into his leader’s back as he could do nothing to stop them from hurdling into the flames. At the last second, just before they hit the flames, Zane hid his face into Cole’s collarbone, squinting and tensing at their inevitable death that Cole seemed to think fit.

Heat burst through their bodies, and Zane’s vision went white, only knowing pain and heat and fire. There was an anguished scream and a crash somewhere off in the distance that he no longer belonged to. Splintered objects scratched his arms and the sensation of movement registered somewhere in the back of his database.

There was another shout, and then another, rising above the overwhelming buzzing in Zane’s ears. He felt so hot, burning up as if fire resided in his bones. He wondered for a split second if this is what Kai felt like constantly; a supernova about to explode. 

At the sudden remembrance of Kai, his eyes snapped open, thrown back into the reality he had forgotten in the fire. He lay face up on uneven ground, gasping for oxygen he did not need and looking up at a starry sky framed by trees. 

_ Cole. Fire. Monastery. _

Zane was about to shout for help when a face appeared in front of his view of the stars. Black windswept hair singed at the edges and emerald eyes striking against the soot caused Zane to cry silently in relief. A calloused hand cradled Zane’s cheek as they both gasped for air and smiled at the other with a quiver to their bottom lips, the feeling of tears pricking at their eyes.

“What happened?” Zane managed to croak as Cole suddenly moved his hand away as if he had been burned. Which could have very well happened, seeing as how they had just came out of flames.

“I ran through the fire and smashed through the wall. I ran as far as I could before I collapsed. We’re not very far from the village…” Cole tapered off as he looked beyond Zane’s head to where the nindroid assumed was the burning monastery. They were still bathed in orange light, and Zane slowly became aware of the villager’s distant screams.

“We have to go back,” Zane said as he began to sit up, Cole looking worried as Zane did so, “We have to go and save the villagers from… Oh my god.”

To say Cole’s clothes had burned from the fire was a severe understatement. His shirt seemed to be only rags now, and the fire had not shown mercy to his jeans either. Thankfully there was enough coverage to keep things from getting awkward between the two of them. But only just, and Zane’s imagination quickly latched onto the image with a steel grip.

“We can’t think about that right now,” Cole interjected, and Zane froze for a couple of seconds before realizing he was talking about the villagers and had not noticed Zane’s oggiling, “My priority right now is getting you, and me for that matter, out of here.”

Zane’s brows furrowed as inappropriate thoughts quickly slipped out of his mind at Cole’s words. Guilt seeped into the earth elemental’s eyes at Zane’s scrutiny. 

“What do you mean, ‘out of here’? There are people that need our help, Cole, we can’t just run aw-”

“We have to Zane,” Cole interrupted with conviction in his voice, “We are in no shape to win a battle against… whatever those things are. I know you don’t like it, neither do I, but we’ll be of more help if we live to fight another day.”

Zane looked behind him as he watched the fire rage on. The shadows of the villagers had lessened, the area now littered by the floating, shadowy attackers as they looked for survivors. 

The monastery was up in flames, now a massive pile of burning wood emitting light along with the burning remains of what used to be houses. 

“Do you think Misako and Garmadon made it out?” Zane wondered aloud as he stared at what was left of the monastery. The slight scent of burning flesh, possibly unknown monks that had been caught in the flames, made Zane crinkle his nose. 

“I honestly don’t know,” The earth elemental muttered, reaching for Zane and resting a hand on the nindroid’s shoulder, “But we have to hope.”

* * *

The walk through the mountain behind the village was grueling and painful. Bushes and branches scrapped at their skin and loose rocks caused them to stumble as they hiked along the bottom of the mountain range. The soot from the fire itched at their skin and the need for rest was implanted deep in their bones. But the need to find Lloyd’s parents, and the presence of each other, kept them from stopping.

Their clothes, or lack thereof, was certainly not helping to avoid the scrapes and bruises. And not only was it leaving them vulnerable to injury, but also served as a distraction to sometimes cause a stumble where there were no lose rocks. With Zane leading their impromptu hiking, Cole couldn’t help but stare at what was in front of him. If it hadn’t been for that fire, Cole reasoned he would have been staring… less. Not that a lack of clothes was new to him, he had seen Zane with his shirt off plenty of times. However, the large holes in the pants were a new experience to him that reduced him to a bumbling idiot.

When Cole has first found out he was falling hard for his friend, he had promised himself that he would forget about it; let it die out and hopefully never feel such feelings again. But that plan was turning out to be much more difficult than Cole had originally imagined. He could have never guessed Zane to be so unforgettable as he was. He never would have thought that Zane would eventually seep into every thought, every decision Cole made, every second of his day.

And god if it weren’t killing him. 

Ever since Zane had woken up, there had been moments. Moments where Cole swore he could see something in Zane’s smile, a glint in his eyes that meant something more than friendship. There was something special when the ice elemental’s gaze would land on him and soften, something that felt reserved only for him. Zane hadn’t looked at him in such a way before, and Cole didn’t know if it was because the nindoird was feeling better again or something else that the earth elemental had only dreamed of.

Even now, doing something so serious as fleeing from a village and looking for two adults who could quite possibly be dead, Cole felt the same electric feeling he had felt in the kitchen only hours before. The same indescribable pull that he didn’t want to resist.

“Logically, they would find higher ground near a water source of some kind,” Zane mumbled out loud to the night, a furrow to his brow as they traveled along the bottom of the mountain. Cole looked up from his musings to meet the glowing blue eyes looking back at him in the night, “But there’s no area near here that consists of both higher ground and a river. And I have yet to see a sign that Garmadon or Misako have been through this area.”

There was a moment of silence between the two as a fear they did not want to face settled in their minds. What if they could not find them? What if they were alone now, running from an army of ghostly figures with the intent of murder?

They had been without mentors on the battlefield before, of course. But they were always guaranteed to swoop in to save the day or give them some cryptid messages of hope. Some solution to their predicament. They had never been without someone wiser to guide them.

Zane took a deep breath in and calmly exhaled. There was no reason to give up hope on finding the two, and he would not believe them to be dead until he saw their bodies himself. There was no use getting themselves worked up over mere speculations. They needed their heads about them.

“I suggest a rest. Our bodies need some time to recuperate, and searching for Sensei Garmadon and Misako will be close to impossible in our exhausted state,” Zane suggested, ceasing their walk along the mountain and opting to sit down on a generously large rock. He patted it and moved over slightly, giving enough room for the other to sit down. 

The rock was cold and hard and nothing like their bed back in the now burnt monastery. How many times they had fallen asleep together in that bed, Zane could no longer keep track of. It seemed so long ago, waking up in Cole’s arms that one fateful morning where the other’s fingers toyed with Zane’s pajama bottoms and Jay snickered from the bunk above. And even longer ago the first time they had ever slept together, Cole sneaking into his bed after Zane had attempted to do the irreversible that night. He had come a long way from that moment; a moment that he wouldn’t have been able to take back.

Zane was still working through it, still healing and still grieving. But with Cole, he was growing and learning. He was learning that love and family didn’t have to come from bloodlines or mutual respects to others. Love could come from the deepest place in one’s body, an aching and strong place that fluttered with every word Cole spoke and sang with every smile they shared. 

The same place that fluttered when Cole sat down on the rock with Zane and almost instinctively wrapped his arm around Zane’s waist. And there was that buzz again, that feeling up insatiable electricity as Cole’s arm pressed up against Zane’s skin, the rag of a shirt leaving no barrier between them. Not that they hadn’t been without a barrier before. But everytime skin on skin contact had occurred, it had been an accident or a consequence of sleeping in the same bed.

But this deliberate touch, an arm around his waist and distracted callused fingers tracing circles on his hip bone in a soothing rhythm had no excuse. Only intimacy and an active attempt to calm and connect could be the reason for such a touch.

That electric feeling, quickly becoming addictive, ran through Zane’s wires rapidly as he rested his head on Cole’s shoulder, sighing in content and letting his eyes flutter close. He could feel Cole’s heartbeat, hear it rushing through his veins and pumping at an excited rate. Excited from what, Zane could not tell. There was the possibility of reflected feelings, yet Zane was sure his robotic body would not be as appealing as the nindroid could hope. The heartbeat could be from fear, from anxiety; from many other triggers than Zane’s presence against Cole’s body.

Little did Zane know that was exactly why Cole’s heart was beating as if he had just ran a mile. He hadn’t even thought when he wrapped his arm around Zane’s waist. He hadn’t noticed his absentminded tracing of Zane’s hip as he wondered how they were going to survive and find the others. He had not noticed anything until Zane leaned into Cole, resting his head against Cole’s shoulder and exhaling a cold breath that skated across his bare collar bone.

He froze at the sensation, heart stopping and galloping all at once. Was Zane trying to send him into a heart attack? Damn it, of course he wasn’t, there wasn’t a chance the ice elemental possibly knew how Cole felt. But being so close felt so natural; it felt so  _ right _ . 

Cole couldn’t hold it in any longer. He couldn’t do this to his friend anymore, if for no other reason than to be fair to his friend. He was certain Zane only thought physical connection like this as a purley friendly gesture, meant to comfort. He couldn’t let Zane live under the impression that Cole wasn’t getting something more out of their intimacy. It seemed unfair to keep perpetuating this game he was playing, initiating contact that Zane probably saw as innocent. Cole had to tell him, even if it meant Zane’s inevitable rejection.

“Zane…” Cole whispered, his voice croaking as his anxiety caught in his throat. Zane lifted his head off Cole’s shoulder as the earth elemental retracted his arm from Zane’s waist, turning to face him with beautiful pools of icy blue. Oh god, he couldn’t do this.

“Yes? Are you alright?” Zane responded, brows furrowed in worry, watching as Cole’s expression turned to one of fright. 

Cole crossed his arms tightly to his chest and looked down at his feet, shoes (or what was left of them) tapping anxiously on the dirt ground. He was sure his heart never beat this fast before, sure his nerves had never gone so haywire as they were now. Damn it, he couldn’t do this, could he? Confrontation was too hard, why did he have to say anything at all? He was in the mess already though, he couldn’t get out of it now. He just had to make sure he didn’t say anything stupid. Nice and calm and thought-through and-

“I haven’t been straight with you,” Cole blurted, head snapping to Zane as he announced it. Only seconds after did he realize just exactly what he had said, and the familiar heat of a blush quickly tinted his cheeks. Cole instantly looked back to the ground and his feet at the look of surprise on Zane’s face. He wouldn’t be able to talk about this while staring at Zane’s face. He didn’t want to see the rejection he was about to be given.

“Excuse me?” Zane’s voice sounded like a boom to Cole, a scary noise that filled the night with dread. Damn it Cole. Damn it.

“Well I…” Cole began, conversing with the ground a much better alternative instead of looking up at Zane, “I haven’t been very straight with you. At all. I’ve been… very not straight… with you. The opposite of straight actually…” 

His mouth had apparently forgotten the rule of not saying anything stupid. His tongue had gone and gotten itself tied, and Cole had never wanted anything as much as he wanted the earth to swallow him whole in that moment.

An eerie silence from Zane followed, the only sounds being the crickets chirping in the night. The nindroid did not move, did not make a peep to at all acknowledge what Cole had said. He wanted to look up, oh how he wanted to look up and see how Zane was reacting. But his heart couldn’t handle that, and the silence was a generous rejection as any.

“I’m sorry-” Cole began, before Zane finally decided to speak.

“Please stop talking,” Zane whispered to Cole quietly, breaking the silence and causing Cole’s heart to drop to his stomach. Damn it.

“I-I didn’t know how to tell you. And it’s been going on for a while. I’m sorry I didn’t-” Cole started to ramble, still talking to the ground as tears pricked dangerously at his eyes. To have ever hoped for Zane to feel the same had been stupid. Stupid Cole and his stupid fantasies. 

“Stop talking,” Zane hissed with such a venom that Cole couldn’t help but look up at him in shock. He had expected a let down, a rejection, but the anger in Zane’s tone was unexpected at best.

“Zane, look, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, i thought it would be best for you to kno-” Cole began again, worried now. God he shouldn’t have said anything, now Zane wasn’t even going to want to stay friends, he was an idiot, such an idiot-

“Cole, I have absolutely no idea what you are referring to with this cryptic language, and we can talk about this later because it sounds important to you, but I hear someone coming and we need to hide,” Zane interrupted, this time bringing the earth elemental to a full stop. 

Cole hadn’t been rejected. Zane had no clue as to what Cole had just taken up the courage and admitted to, and he was pretty sure his heart could not take a single moment more of such torture.

But wallowing in his self pity would have to wait, for Zane had already dashed away and was now quickly climbing up a tree, obviously trying to hide from whatever his super hearing had heard coming towards them. Cole followed him swiftly yet without as much grace, slipping on a couple of tree limbs on his hasty assent up the pine.

“Ow!” Hissed Cole as the pine needles poked him in the head as they made perch on their own branches. Zane brought a finger to his lips, reminding Cole to stay silent. All Cole could focus on, however, was the pale finger pressed up against soft, baby pink lips. His one track mind was certainly going to kill him someday, if it hadn’t already. 

Zane pointed down below them after he had made sure Cole knew to stay silent, the sounds of the people below getting louder as they got closer. Cole could now hear them, the evident crunching of leaves and twigs, and they both looked down to see who was approaching.

The figure was solid enough not to be one of the ghostly figures that had attacked the village. But it was too dark for Cole to see, and the pines were obscuring his view too much to really recognize the person. That is, until the person spoke.

“Boys? Is that you?” Sensei Garmadon called up to them, visible at the bottom of the trunk, looking up at them with worry and fear and concern..

The two teens both exclaimed in delight at the sight of the Sensei and hurried down the tree as fast as they could, running right into the arms of the previous dark lord. There was laughter and a few tears as they reunited with Sensei Garmadon. Cole, nor Zane for that matter, ever thought they would be so happy to see the Garmadon patriarch alive and well. But after such a traumatic experience at the village, and the realization that they were not alone, they couldn’t be blamed if a few tears were shed. 

“What were you two doing up there? What did you think you were, monkeys?” Sensei Garmadon teased as he let the two teens out of a hug and wiped some of the tears that had accumulated on his cheeks.

“We didn’t know who you were, it was the only place we thought quickly of to hide,” Zane explained as they all calmed down, each of them breathing easier knowing the other was safe. 

“Well, come on you two. We found somewhere to camp for now before we figure out what to do next,” Sensei Garmadon explained before walking off, obviously wanting them to follow.

The two elementals did, relief sagging their shoulder. Zane didn’t mention what had happened beforehand, but the situation sat heavy in Cole’s mind, heart beating from adrenaline not at all related to the attack at the village.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave comments! I love all of your feedback! And I hope you loved the chapter!!!   
> P.S: My New Year's resolution is to come out with at least one chapter every two weeks, to keep you guys sane!


	16. Skinny Dipping and a Can of Beans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Zane and Cole settle down after the attack, Zane takes some much needed introspection, and the two teens finally take the first step towards a growing relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YO ALL  
> So obviously I broke my New Years Resolution and I'm super sorry about that  
> But then again I'm in college and doing that important stuff that will set up the rest of my life so I'm not TOO angry at myself :p Compared to how often I usually update, this chapter is very quick, so I'm still happy XD  
> It's kinda short, but that's because it really doesn't have too much plot.  
> LOTS OF FLUFF AHEAD  
> I hope ya'll enjoy! Please leaves reviews, I basically survive off of them!  
> (I hope you all notice it is almost 1 A.M as I post this; The writing life is tough)  
> And of course, thanks to my favorite editor Sarah <3 You're the actual best thing ever <3

The campsite that Sensei Garmadon and Misako had made was inviting enough. They had been able to whip up a fire inside a small cave, just enough shelter to protect them from the natural elements. 

The cave was perched higher up on the mountain; just high enough to be on the lookout for enemies passing by in the woods. Down below them, hidden by trees and bushes, lay a stream that the two adults had found while searching for a place to camp out. All things considered, the group was in the best position they could be in the situation given to them.

There were hugs shared and kisses to the cheek when Sensei Garmadon brought the two ninja back from his search. Relief hung heavy in the air, a relief so strong it felt as though they had all woken up and realized it had been a dream. Except it wasn’t. The village had been attacked, the citizens hadn’t been saved, and the group was at a loss as to what to do next. All they had were some provisions Misako and Garmadon had grabbed before fleeing, the ninja’s outfits that the two adults had thought important to bring, and a shelter to take cover in. In the past, they had always been able to pull through the troubles that they faced. They were always able to overcome, always able to succeed in the end. Now, however, the elemental masters were doubting whether they would come out of this as heros, or as failures.

Zane ate his canned beans in silence as these thoughts filtered through his mind. Cole busied himself around the cave, crafting beds out of leaves and really, anything he could find that was soft. His beans sat next to the fire, growing cold as he distracted himself with small tasks to do. There was not a word spoken between them; Whether it was from their abruptly ended conversation earlier, or the shock from the fire, Zane did not know. But what Cole had said earlier… It had felt important, like something that hung in the balance, the world tied to this thing Cole had been trying to say… A key to a door Zane hadn’t known could be opened… And he wasn’t sure if it was a door that he  _ wanted  _ open. The desperation in Cole’s voice, the nervous shake in his bones, had left Zane more hesitant than wanting. 

Sensei Garmadon and Misako filled the silence with their voices, talking with concern over what to do next. A few words here and there were muttered about “citizens” and “Wu” and “ghosts”, and many more things that were lost to both of the elemental masters. Zane tried to listen to what the two adults were saying, he knew it would do no good to detach himself from the problem at hand. But his focus kept leaving him, dragging him back to thoughts of failure and disappointment. Thoughts of raging fires and strong arms wrapped around him.

His father had built him specifically to  protect people who could not protect themselves. His existence only had one core purpose, one motivation above all else; to save and defend. Zane had been built to only do this, to protect the people that could not fend for themselves. People like the villagers, who could not fight the ghostly figures and save themselves from fire and death. That was Zane’s job.

But he hadn’t done that, had he? He hadn’t been able to protect, hadn’t been able to do the  _ one thing _ he was existing for. In the end, what else mattered if he couldn’t do what he was programmed to do? And he hadn’t been able to even protect his leader. Instead, he had caused Cole to resort to pain, risking the fire to get him to safety. He had only been a dead weight, causing pain- if he wasn’t so hell bent on wanting to feel emotions like a human, they wouldn’t have been here in the first place. If Zane had just simply turned off his emotions and let the grief subside that way, Cole would have never been in danger.

The earth elemental was shuffling around the three huddled by the fire, eating canned beans. He seemed to be moving fine, but what if Cole had been burned? What if he had horrible burns rubbing up against his tattered shirt and was feeling pain with every movement he made?

A disappointment to his father was what Zane was. A robot who couldn’t even serve his goddamn purpose, a robot who wanted to be human more than anything; a mechanical being, mistaken into giving himself a consciousness, giving himself emotions, thinking to himself that he could dare to love a human. Living in a fantasy world, seeing himself as an equal when he wasn’t. He would never be an equal, never truly reach this impossible dream. All he was to do was to float in the nothingness he had created himself over the years, a state where he did not have a place or a function. He was not human. He never would be. And his one given function, his one identity he could hold onto, had crumbled through his fingers as he failed to execute his one purpose: to protect those who could not protect themselves.

Zane was brought sharplly from his thoughts as these thinkings planted themselves deep in the nindroid’s mind. This was not a sadness that he had experienced before. This was something other than grieving or feeling down. No, this was a heavy weight on his lungs, a compression of his rib cage, his abdomen clenching with something that he could not identify.

The conversation Sensei Garmadon and Misako were having suddenly entered Zane’s attention as if they had called his name.

“There is still hope yet,” Misako stated, watching her husband as she told him so, “All we have to do is make a plan, save the people, and find out just what exactly is going on. We can do it.”

Garmadon frowned and looked down into the fire as if he would find the answers in the flames. After a few seconds, the previous Dark Lord looked up to face his wife again, shadows dancing across his face as the fire flickered. He did not say anything, yet there was a shared look of love and trust, and Zane had about had it with emotions. Hope and love and trust- he was fed up.

“We failed,” the nindroid stated matter-of-factly with a very distinct bite to his words, “We can’t save the people, they are dead.”

Three pairs of eyes landed on him in shock, Cole looking over quickly from his third makeshift bed. There had always been a somewhat silent pact that no matter what, they had to always think positive. Jay would always make the jokes, Zane would always bring the plan, Cole always provided the motivation, and Kai always started the plan before it was ever complete. They had a system that worked, a system that made them win. Every time. They always came out on top. 

Zane couldn’t sit there any longer and not mourn the loss of the people they did not save, while the others pretended there was still a chance to succeed. He could not sit there and pretend everything was okay, that he wasn’t a failure in every sense of the word.

“We lost. People died. We did not win. We are foolish to think this can be fixed.” Zane stated, placing his can of beans on the rocky ground with force as he said so.

The two adults stared at him in what almost seemed to be disbelief. Of course they were, Zane may have had his times where he wasn’t feeling well, but he had never been so harsh or negative as he was being now.

“Zane…” Cole started, dropping the leaves in his hands to the ground, eyebrows furrowed in concern, “We did the best that we could, we didn’t have the whole team, no human could have-”

“BUT I’M NOT HUMAN, AM I?” Zane exclaimed, suddenly shooting off the ground in a fit of anger, kicking over his can of beans accidently. But he didn’t care. He was furious, his fists clenched tightly at his sides, shaking as the dam burst. No one said anything. His voice rang against the cave walls and echoed back to the group in aggressive repetition, over and over as if the words wanted to be noticed, to be recognized as something more than just words.

The fire sizzled as Zane’s knocked-over beans came in contact with the flames. The ice elemental looked down as he watched his meal sluggishly offer itself up to the fire, even though it had not been the one to knock itself over. Cole’s can of beans still stood in the place that he had left it, growing cold and distant from the heat.

If Zane knocked Cole’s beans over, would they join Zane’s in the fire? Would they want to? Or maybe they would recoil, from the heat or joining Zane’s meal, the nindroid did not know. 

Would Cole want to join Zane in this burning fire? Because he was burning up. Being consumed by the flames without knowing what to do in them. Falling for someone when you weren’t supposed to have emotions was awfully taxing. Would Cole want to burn with Zane, until there was no telling whose ashes were whose? Mix together until there could not be one without the other?

It was then that Zane’s system reminded him that he would not leave ashes behind. Only softer metal and fried wires and failures and fake nerve endings and Zane couldn’t take this anymore. He left his spilled beans behind, his poetic musings as to whether he could love; left behind the green-eyed man with the leaf beds and the couple by the fire, and walked into the night.

Zane heard a protest from inside the cave, maybe someone beginning to shout his name before being cut off, but he continued to walk. Down the slope, over lose rocks, between the bushes, through the trees, on the dirt, until he came to the bank of the river, being able to travel no further in light of the obstacle the rushing water possesed.

He had always been okay with being a robot. It had never been something that overtly bothered him, although it often set him apart from others. But he had always accepted that, always appreciated his existence in life. But Cole… Cole flipped that on its head, and suddenly, Zane was wanting to feel and breath and touch. Cole had showed him what could be possible if humanity was in Zane’s grasp, and he wanted more of it. More of what he couldn’t have, more of the vulnerability and urgency that came with being human.

He used to think others as ignorant. Wasting time with emotions and getting caught up in each other’s matters. He would watch Jay and Nya and wonder what they were getting out of their closer connection, what could possibly be so rewarding by touching another and knowing they wanted you too. But now? But now… 

God, when had this all started? Zane could say it all began the moment Jay flipped that specific switch, that damning emotion that allowed him to stand yet feel such powerful feelings course through his wires. He could say that was where it all started, that pinpointed moment, but it wasn’t. It had started before that, before Zane started noticing just how green Cole’s eyes truly were and how smoothly his whole body moved. Possibly even before the Overlord. 

Maybe it had been happening for years now, building under his wires and buttons and switches. Every time they were there for each other, each time they laughed together, each time they leaned on the other with the knowledge that they would hold the other in return. It was in every smile shared and every story told, between fights and meals and support and teamwork and  _ god damn it  _ he couldn’t deny it. He couldn’t walk away from it like he could the cave, couldn’t discourage himself with metaphors about canned beans and ashes. As much as he wanted to leave everything behind, return to times before his father was dead and before emotions and before Cole got over his stange cold, he couldn’t. He couldn’t run around this anymore, he couldn’t pine and then berate himself. He had to let it out before it consumed him and drowned him, before his head succumbed to the waves and he could no longer speak. He had to shout it to the sky, to the stars twinkling back at him in the night, to the river and the sleeping birds.

“I-I- I love… I love… I LOVE HIM! DAMN IT ALL, I-I-I LOVE HIM!”

The crickets chirped and the river gurgled and it was the best response to a love confession Zane could have hoped for. Zane had uttered the word “love” before, of course. Back when Jay had fixed him and Zane found out that Cole was not simply his friend. But it meant something different now. Something more deeper and beautiful than anything before. And screaming it made him want to shout it more. And whisper it. And caress it. Deliver its message, skate it across lips, confess and reluctantly give up and exasperatedly sigh those same words, over and over and over until he could no longer breath.

He ached for this. Ached for all of these experiences, and then more. To have Cole in his arms, that’s all he really wanted, wasn’t it? A robot in love. Such an idea could be called preposterous, but Zane couldn’t help it. He couldn't help but want, to desire, to feel the urge that a human would feel. The urge to love and be loved. 

He watched the river gurgle and the stars twinkle with such an interest and concentration, that he did not notice someone was approaching until he heard a twig snap behind him.

Immediately, Zane whipped around, already in position to attack, when said attacker raised their hands quickly in surrender. Tall, filled-out shoulders, broad chest, burned shirt, and a nervous smile: it was only Cole.

Zane turned away to look back at the river, feeling ashamed now that Cole had appeared. In his musings and resolutions, he had forgotten about his burst of anger in the cave and escaping before anyone could say something to comfort him.

“I didn’t come to bother you or talk it out, I swear,” Cole explained to the white-haired teen silhouetted by the river and moon, “I heard you screaming and I was afraid something happened to you.”

“I am fine,” Zane assured him, back still turned to the man. Rustiling followed Zane’s words as Cole approached closer, eventually stopping just behind Zane’s shoulder, not quite standing next to him. 

“I’m here for you, though you already know that. I just- I just want you to know that you mean a great deal to me. Failure is part of everything in the progression of things and… God I sound like a jerk don’t I? You just… you matter, and I couldn’t really live without you, yeah?”

Cole’s voice slightly wavered in the last sentence, as if saying it was a risky thing to do. Hot air puffed against Zane’s bare neck and shoulder, having been left uncovered by the burnt shirt that he still wore. A lump formed in Zane’s throat at this, something profound and beautiful. 

“You make me feel like I’m living,” Zane blurted, the lump forcing its way out of his throat and into the openness, as if its importance was too great to keep inside any longer. Immediately, Zane clenched his jaw, mortified that such a thing had escaped before he could catch it. There was a strong huff of breath following these words, as if Cole has just been punched in the gut and had become winded. The ice elemental repressed the urge to shiver as something faintly electric-like washed through his wires, as if the warm breath had caused adrenaline to surge through every crevice of his being. His face felt significantly warm, as if his systems were having a small overheating.

“Zane…” Cole whispered softly, as if he was too shocked to say anything else. Anticipation for an answer followed, yet silence preceded.

Zane did not reply, only watched the stream and the way the moon glinted off of it in beautiful waves. His bare feet, shoes having been burnt in the fire, dug slightly into the sandy river bank. He could feel it only just, only as much as fake nerve endings would allow. But it was enough to ground him into this moment, into the night and Cole’s presence somewhere behind him. The earth seeped through his toes as he wiggled them into the ground, and he felt right at home. The sand was warm and soft and Zane couldn’t believe he was growing sentimental for sand simply because it was an extension of Cole: earth.

There was a murmur behind him, a sound seemingly coming from a far away distance. Zane didn’t pay attention to it, however. Instead, he concentrated as his feet began to chill, slowly summoning the element of ice from deep within his core. Steam coiled up from his now covered feet, as if he were heating the sand instead of freezing it. As he watched, the sand and ice gently began to fuse together, until cubes of ice mixed with sand particles formed at his feet. Beautiful little creations, the ice shining in the moonlight as the earth stayed suspended from within.

“Like mini-” Cole began, saying under his breath as if he was in awe.

“Glaciers,” Zane finished.

Time froze as neither of them made a sound. They only turned their heads to look at one another, some connection solidifying between them at the eye contact. Cole’s eyes flickered down to Zane’s lips, steam-like puffs of air rolling out of his lips as it did whenever Zane summoned his powers. Beautifully stunning icy blues stared at him, watching him as if he were the only thing that truly mattered.

Zane was drowning in it, those emerald eyes were leaving him speechless, and there was no coming back from this. Ever. And when Cole’s gaze flickered down to Zane’s lips, when Zane saw a tint of blush shade his cheeks, he did not comment. He only watched, observed, and knew that this is what Jay and Nya felt when ever the looked at each other. Like an infinite universe, all held in the other’s being. Their pure existence enough to make one lose all sense of time and space.

Cole was the first to break eye contact, looking down to watch as the ice cubes melted in absence of Zane’s attention. They washed over Zane’s previously soot covered skin, washing away the black to reveal behind it the snow white complexion of Zane’s feet. Cole could still feel Zane’s gaze locked on him, the moment not lost yet despite the disconnection in gazes.

“When I never felt like I was enough, when I felt like my dad was pushing me to be something I’m not, or when I felt like I was disappointing him by not being what he wanted… I would go swimming,” Cole said to Zane’s feet. The toes wiggled, and Cole looked back up to see Zane still intently watching him.

“Why swimming?” Zane simply asked, this time  _ his _ gaze dipping down to watch chapped lips as they formed their next words.

“Well, the way I swam. Skinny dipping, to be precise,” Cole chuckled at himself as Zane gazed on, “It would help me realize that I was enough. That anything I would do was going to be enough, because I was everything I was meant to be. It helped me realize that only I could make who I was. I was the only one that could decide who I was going to be.”

“I want to do that.”

Cole looked to Zane in shock, but Zane did not care. He wanted to let go, to feel those things; to realize he was enough. And there was something so undeniable about the both of them, in this moment, standing on the river bank. They may not yet kiss, and they may not yet confess their feelings, but there was a sudden understanding between the two of them. There was a mutually need for the other, an interdependence so deep that to ignore it and go back to the cave was to murder it. 

“Zane? Are you sure? I mean, skinny dipping is, well, swimming without any-” Cole began, this time is face certainly darkening to the color red.

“I am aware of what skinny dipping entails,” Zane responded softly, blue eyes glittering, as he reached for the hem of his burnt shirt, which fell at the middle of his stomach.

Cole’s eyes stayed glued to Zane’s as the ruined shirt came off and was thrown into the grass, leaving him in nothing but the barley-functioning burnt shorts he still had on. 

Zane’s body was covered in soot, yet there were places that the shirt had protected, leaving snowy white patches untouched by the fire. Zane was lean, yet built with strength as he had been made to endure years of fighting. Cole sputtered as Zane gave him a somewhat mischievous smirk before sauntering down the sand a little farther, Cole’s eyes trailing as he did so. 

The subtle sway of his hips left no questions, and as Zane’s feet entered the water, the man stretched his arms over his head, leaving his back muscles to ripple in such satisfying ways that Cole couldn’t help but choke slightly.

He shouldn’t have said anything, he was painfully aware of this now. Not only would this be adding to the tension that had occurred not even minutes ago, but Cole also knew that these images, this night, would never leave his brain until the day he died.

Zane was up to his shoulders in the water now, bobbing in the river with a large smile on his face. It felt so refreshing, so lively in the water. Cool, yet not too cool to cause goosebumps. Just cool enough to feel like a soft hug.

The nindroid ducked his head under the water, allowing the coolness to run through his hair and wash out the dirt and soot that had collected there. He let the feeling consume him, allowed the water to rid him of the soot that had accumulated, before surfacing once more.

Cole’s heart beat to a stop as Zane re-emerged from the waters depths, coming out of the water with a flick of his head, flinging his white hair backwards with the momentum. The ice elemental was a vision, hair back to its pristine color, now with a slight tinge of grey due to its soaked state. He ran his fingers through it, leaving it slicked back with stray pieces sticking out at odd angles. Zane’s pale shoulder glittered in the moonlight, almost radiating their own light. Zane turned in the water to face Cole at the shore, the widest smile he had ever seen plastered on the nindroids smile.

Cole smiled back from the shore, yet he was still frozen on the spot, not having moved an inch towards the river as he had been too captivated by Zane to do so.

“Come on, Cole!” Zane exclaimed, “Get in! I’m not getting any older over here!”

Cole snorted at just how true the statement was before he nervously began to remove his shirt, the burnt thing crinkling slightly in his grip. He was desperately trying to come to terms with what was about to occur. Naked. In river. With Zane. He felt like his mind was spinning in circles. Oh dear god, what had he done? This was absolutely, positively a bad idea. So so bad, he could safely say this was one of the worst ideas he had ever had. He had no idea what he was doing, and was about to call it off, say he’d sit this one out, when he realized that his shirt was already off and clenched in his hands.

“Throw it! Throw it!” Zane chanted from the water, whooping when Cole launched it to the grass at Zane’s insistence. 

Cole laughed in joy, and before he knew it, he was joining Zane in the water, running towards the river and then trudging through it as fast as he could the further in he went. Soon enough, he was wading in the water next to Zane, both of them illuminated by the moonlight. 

Silence sat between them in the next moments, something so calming and serene that it felt so natural. Zane glanced to Cole every other minute or so as they stayed there, content with enjoying each other in the river, without a word. The earth elemental looked so calm, so beautiful. His skin was smooth, and the water droplets clung to his shoulders and neck in such a way that made Zane have to look away a couple of times. His green eyes glittered in the moonlight, and he looked so spectacular in those moments, that Zane knew there was no going back to a life without loving Cole. 

Zane slowly began to toe off his burnt pants, leaving himself completely naked. It was thrilling, and new, and exciting, and the adrenaline couldn’t help but make him giggle. Cole looked over at Zane’s giggling, looking slightly confused yet amused all the same.

“What are you laughing about?” Cole asked in a teasing tone, as if Zane was being coy. With a smile that reeked of danger, Zane reached down and pulled his pants all the way off, before bringing them out of the water, cocking his arm back, and throwing his ruined pants straight at Cole’s face.

Cole screeched in surprise as Zane’s pants smacked against his face, obscuring his vision completely. Zane laughed loudly at the other, who pealed the pants off his face to reveal a solid blush on his cheeks. 

“Damn it Zane,” Cole managed to sputter out before he dropped the nindroid’s pants into the water and reached down to grab his own, “You asked for it!”

The white-haired teen squealed and swam away as quickly as he could, as Cole began to chase him with his own pants, Zane’s pants having sunk to the bottom of the river.

For a little while, they felt like regular teenagers. Splashing and chasing and laughing, skinny dipping and sharing each other’s presence; They could have almost forgot about ghosts, powers, Overlords, and responsibilities. For a time, they were simply two people in love with no signs of ever stopping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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